Pokemon Origins: Training
by silentlysnowing
Summary: Most kids got to have ordinary adventures, the kind where they'd earn their badges, stop some crimes, make a few friends, and get mugged once or twice. Me? I got sent back in time by a pushy green creature for reasons I still can't divine. Ordinary. Sure.
1. Stolen Away

On most kid's tenth birthdays- or sometime around then- they'll get their first official Pokemon, then start the biggest adventure of their lifetime. That's what I grew up believing, anyway. How could I not, with the evidence all around? Adults had Pokemon. Teenagers had Pokemon. Trainers had lots of Pokemon, and other people who specialized in the creatures had even more. And there was always the news about who had challenged Gym Leader Whitney today, or which new hotshots had started up a battle in the streets of our city.

But ten feels a long way away when you're nine and some months of change, and I was never really Pokemon-crazy to begin with, not like some of the kids in my class. Oh, I had my dreams. I could close my eyes and imagine the cheers, the people, the badges that someday I'd hang on the wall, and the eternal friends who would be more than pets, who would be my _team_.

Dreams are dreams, though, and there's a lot more to life than training Pokemon. Like gadgets, you know? Like inventions. I always loved making things, and I especially loved it when they worked. I can remember sneaking into Dad's office as a toddler so that I could play with all the shiny tools and bits of metal, trying to see what went where and the cool things that would happen when I put them all together.

Dad's an engineer for Devon Corporation, which is really huge and located all the way down in Hoenn. He's a poke ball designer, and there's no one better at the job! That's what Mom always says, anyway. She's pretty proud of him. But then Dad will say that there's no one smarter than Mr. Kurt, and most people agree with him. Dad's always going on business trips down to Azalea to talk to Kurt about ideas he has, and apparently that's a big deal since Kurt doesn't like most engineers, or something. I wouldn't know; I've never actually met him.

When Dad's at home, he'll let me work with him sometimes, so I've heard all about the interior mechanics of poke balls and Sodi's Theory on Energy Transfusion, as well as a bunch of other stuff that most kids think is boring. Sometimes I think all the technical details are dull, too, to tell the truth. But I never let Dad know that.

Anyway, the point is that I never had plans that were _too_ big for my Pokemon journey. I would get my starter, sure, and I'd travel for as long as I could 'cause that would be fun, and if I beat all of the gym leaders and became the Johto Champion that'd be so awesome- but I always knew that I'd eventually go back home, to get back to learning. After all, the sooner I knew everything my school had to teach me, the sooner I could go to college in Sinnoh. There's a really great technical school near Snowpoint where all the best inventors are from, and it's been my dream to go there ever since I saw it on the news. They take really smart and advanced kids, too, and Mom always told me I was above average, so I'm going to get there someday. Just me and my Pokemon (who switched species over time, from a shiny and ultimately cool version of Zapdos when I was a toddler to a Rotom, then an Elekid, then a Voltorb as I got older and progressively more logical); we'd go off and become _awesome,_ like Dad and his Magneton did.

What they don't tell you, though, is that the stories about how all those badass trainers like Lance or Cynthia started out kind of nudge over the more boring parts.

… like waiting for your father to get home so you can figure out which Pokemon you're getting already.

So, yeah, it was my tenth birthday, and sure, I was excited. I knew my parents had either bought or caught me a partner, since Mom hadn't even tried to hide it; the poke ball was sitting _right there_ on the kitchen table, just waiting. A sticky note was attached to it, a note which read, 'If you open this before your father gets home you'll be grounded for the next year'. Which figured.

Since I didn't even dare to touch the ball for fear of being delayed I was spending my time slouching in my chair and staring at it. It was the regular model, a few years old, I'd judge, and shined up a bit. The dim light that glowed from behind the button meant that Mom wasn't playing a trick on me- there was definitely a Pokemon in there, and it wasn't her Jigglypuff's ball, either, since that one was actually dented from the number of times she'd dropped it. And I had my hopes. The sticky note was yellow, after all- surely that meant that the Pokemon inside would be electric!

I had been infatuated with electric Pokemon for practically as long as I could remember, ever since seeing Dad's Magneton do a thunderbolt attack when I was only four. They're powerful, they can paralyze an opponent just by touching them, and they're only weak against ground types. I'd also always figured that an electric type would be perfect as a partner for later in life, if I ever got a chance to work in machinery. A steel type would be fine, too, but I knew very well where my heart lay.

"Mom," I whined loudly for what felt like the tenth time, "when's Dad coming home?"

"I don't know," she replied evenly from the kitchenette, not bothering to look up from the counter, which she had covered with all of her books and papers. Mom's an accountant. She's really good at math and money and understanding long lists of information, which I personally think is the most boring stuff in the world. She also doesn't believe in surprises, which was why she had no qualms about putting my present out there for everyone to see, never mind how much worse it would make the wait.

I scuffed my feet against the linoleum floor, briefly shifting my gaze to the small view out of the window. Our apartment building is located right in the middle of Goldenrod, which means that you can see everything going on at night, when all the signs are lit up. I could even see the Radio Tower's spotlight between a few other buildings if I squinted hard enough. 'Course, I squint most of the time anyway; glasses can only help your sight so much.

I was wondering whether I was willing to risk Mom's wrath by suggesting that we tune in to Buena's Password (she hates being interrupted when working) when the front door's lock clicked and Dad stepped in. I look a lot like him, only shorter- we're both gangly, and our flat black hair is identical. I inherited Mom's long nose and poor eyesight, though.

"Happy birthday, Monroe," he told me quietly as he closed and locked the door behind him, swinging his briefcase onto the table. Before I could get a word in about my unfair situation he had picked up the poke ball and plucked off the post-it. "Martha," he asked, amused, "did you really make him wait all day?"

"Well, I thought you ought to be here. You did catch it," Mom said without looking up from her papers, though she smiled a little.

"Him," Dad corrected absently, which sent a slight thrill up my spine- my Pokemon was male! That did mean that it (no- he!) couldn't be a Voltorb or a Magnemite, but an Elekid or even a Mareep would still be pretty cool. "Far be it from me to stand between my son and his starter." He winked and tossed me the ball with an expert flick of the wrist that sent it spinning through the air.

I caught it clumsily- hand-eye coordination isn't one of my strong suits- and rolled my fingers around the sphere for a moment, closing my eyes. You get a feel for things once you've handled them enough, and I'd played with many empty prototype balls. This one was smoother, and also warmer, though I was probably imagining that. I opened my eyes again, grinning now, and tossed the ball into the air like I'd seen people do on the television.

It didn't spin, doing a slight arc instead before opening up automatically. A burst of light pooled out of it and rushed to form a shape on the ground as the energy converted itself back into its physical form, and I found myself bouncing slightly as the light faded away, revealing—

I couldn't help but freeze upon recognizing the Pokemon in front of me.

"Droooow," he said, yawning widely and stretching his stubby arms above his head. His long snout waggled back and forth as he moved, and he didn't even bother to open his eyes. I actually caught the ball reflexively as the energy backlash sent it flying back to me, too startled to fumble it.

"It's a Drowzee," I pointed out after a moment had passed, looking back at my parents and raising my eyebrows. Dad was fiddling with something in his briefcase already, but Mom looked up and quirked an eyebrow at me. She's really pretty, actually, though she can talk you out of believing it.

"Drowzee are excellent Pokemon," she told me sternly, "and you know very well that I don't want you starting off with some electric creature that will explode at the slightest—"

"Dad's Pokemon doesn't explode!" Mom and I have this long-standing argument, see. Both Dad and I love electric types, but she thinks they're too dangerous for kids. _I _was of the opinion that I could handle one. To make it worse, have you ever looked at a Drowzee? They're really, really weird. Mine was already proving its weirdness by walking towards me in a really slow, _really_ creepy way, his eyes still closed.

"Magneton is well trained," she told me sternly, "and it had its own issues when it was young- come on, Eric, back me up."

Dad started when she addressed him, dropping the thing he'd been playing with. It rolled across the table to where I was standing, so I grabbed the sphere left-handed before it could roll off the edge. Thinking it was another one of his prototypes, I flipped it over, only to find that it was actually quite solid, gold and silver, and had a few odd marks carved into the front.

At that point, several things happened at once.

Dad jumped up quickly, holding out his hand for the ball and actually glaring at me (and, trust me, Dad doesn't glare on a regular basis).

Drowzee, his eyes still closed and right next to me by now, lifted up his trunk and passed it over the ball, making a humming sound in the back of his throat.

And something broke down the front door.

After that, things started happening really, really quickly. Instinct made me grab at Drowzee with the hand that was still holding his poke ball- he brayed in protest at that and finally opened his eyes- even as a large Pokemon that I couldn't name off the top of my head barged in through the gaping doorway, a few guys dressed all in black on its heels. Mom was already diving for the phone to call the police or something, I don't know, and Dad had Magneton's ball out and was yelling something about Team Rocket (which was stupid, 'cause everyone knows they've been disbanded for years), but one woman just walked in more slowly and took charge of the situation.

"Put that down," she told Mom sharply, pointing a manicured fingernail at her. Mom obeyed and even looked a little scared, which was enough to (almost) set me panicking. That stopped when I looked at the woman, though- she seemed a little transparent, which made me feel queasy. She then turned to Dad and opened up her palm. "You. Hand over the Ge-ess Ball."

Dad stuttered something unintelligible, but it didn't matter, because one of the guys in black had just noticed me and the odd golden ball I was holding. He looked more than a little transparent, too- and so did Dad and Mom and, really, the whole apartment, for that matter. I swayed on my feet as he shouted, and the last thing I saw before everything faded out completely was the woman turning to face me, the look of pure greed on her face shifting to one of anger and shock.

So logically, at first, I thought I had somehow died. I mean, there aren't that many other explanations for what's going on when your vision suddenly disappears. Except that then I saw a Pokemon- and I'm pretty sure that Mew, or Arceus, or whoever you see when you pass away, isn't green.


	2. Another World

The green Pokemon-thing (I assumed it was a Pokemon, anyway, since it was definitely _not _human, looked kind of fairy-like, and had a face and stuff) seemed not to have noticed Drowzee and me. That was kind of a let-down, because my family had just been _attacked_ and then I'd been _teleported_ or something and it was right after getting my starter who was kind of a _disappointment_ and it was my _birthday_ for crying out loud. And stuff was really confusing in general, to the point that I actually wondered if I was just having some really strange dream.

It wasn't like there was anything else to see, either- everything around me was gray and murky, not clearly defined. It looked like there were things- people- standing just out of reach, such that I could only see them from the corner of my eye, but they'd disappear when I turned my head to look. And then there was Drowzee, who looked plenty solid. He had his eyes completely closed and he was kind of sucking air in through his trunk with a really happy smile on his face. The entire effect was more than a little creepy, but I didn't let go of his ear since he was the only thing that I was sure still existed.

I had nothing to lose at that point, so I decided to just go ahead and take action. "Hey- hey, you!" I shouted at the strange green Pokemon, trailing off as I realized that I didn't know what to call it.

The Pokemon heard, though. It turned toward me, twitching the tentacle things on its head, and its eyes opened wide.

_Are you real, or another figment to begin a nightmare?_ The phrase echoed through my head in a pleasant, light female voice, but it was backed up with millions of images and sounds and thoughts and some of them were horrible, horrible. I didn't realize that I was screaming until the voice had stopped talking. Next to me, Drowzee was ignoring us both, still breathing deeply through his trunk.

_You are!_ The voice had changed- well, the sound was the same, but the images and everything else were gone. I still shuddered when I heard it, though. _My apologies, I wasn't shielding my mind before. How did you get here?_

"Um," I said, shaking slightly, "I, I don't-"

_Oh?_ The green Pokemon shifted slightly, looked at Drowzee. _Of course. Your Pokemon is eating my dreams, and my own power is boosting the effect enough to extend towards others nearby. An interesting idea… if unconventional._ Inwardly, I groaned despite my disbelief- I'd forgotten about Drowzee's most well-known ability, dream eating. Had I mentioned before how _weird_ my starter was? _Still, you are here. You are not trapped. Therefore, you must help me._

I thought about pointing out that I didn't have to do anything, but the Pokemon was pretty intimidating despite being rather small and delicate-looking. "What do you want me to do?" I asked, trying to buy time. What I would do with that time was another question entirely.

_Free me._

"… you don't look like a prisoner to me."

_I am_. The voice sounded almost amused. _Trapped 'twixt sea and sky, cut off from the real dimensions. In here, I cannot access the streams of time and thus cannot escape._

I wanted to ask what it was talking about, and how I was supposed to help it anyway- I was just a kid, after all. People aren't supposed to ask kids to do important stuff. However, the creature was starting to fade away as Drowzee's trunk starting swaying back and forth. _I cannot hold onto both of you for much longer_, it said, shrinking away, _but I can put you where it started. You must help me, human child, in any way you can... _the voice trailed off, and the Pokemon tilted its head to the side. _If you're capable of helping, that is_. I barely caught that remark- it was like a wisp of a thought had just brushed my mind.

I frowned (after all, it wasn't like I was _incompetent_ or something). "But what--"

_You must discover how to free me._

"I don't know—" I tried to protest, but then Drowzee opened his eyes and the green creature faded away entirely. As the creature disappeared, the gray mist of the surroundings seemed to wisp away, revealing lush green plains surrounding us with a forest some few hundred meters to my right and what looked like water (maybe) far, far off to the left.

What was creepy was that there wasn't a single other person or Pokemon in sight- except for Drowzee. Drowzee jerked his ear out of my hand at this point, making me drop his poke ball (which I'd been clutching at awkwardly in the same hand the whole time) on the ground.

"Look what you made me do," I muttered, reaching down to pick it up again. Then I eyed him warily, wondering what I was supposed to do with him. He'd already gotten me transported to two entirely different places in the few minutes that I'd owned him. Recalling him seemed like the smartest option- but I didn't know where I was, and I was pretty sure that I'd start panicking as soon as I was alone. "Look, uh, Drowzee. Stop- stop doing things that complicate stuff, okay? Or you'll have to go back in your ball."

He stared at me, not responding. Weren't Pokemon supposed to understand their trainers?

I decided (or, rather, defined- it wasn't like I had any experience to work off of) that it just took time, and kept talking. "Anyway, let's figure out where we are, so we can call my parents and then figure this—" I stopped talking at that point, because I had realized something important. I didn't have the cell phone Mom had recently bought for me in any of my pockets; in fact, I had practically nothing with me at all.

At that point, everything that had happened in the preceding five minutes finally caught up to me, and I burst into tears.

... shut up. They were _manly_ tears, okay?

Crying doesn't solve problems, but it sure can help you feel better if you can get it out of your system. Drowzee helped with that- he only let me sit in the grass and sob for three minutes or so before waddling over and slapping me across the head with his arm. That snapped me out of it pretty quickly.

After spending another minute chasing him around the field and yelling at him I decided to sit down and figure out our situation. He actually joined me, watching and listening as I inventoried everything I had. I like making lists, after all. It's calming.

"Pants pockets- rubber band, two mints, five dollars in cash, a pen, and a few berries. Nothing really useful there." I laid the items out on the grass anyway; the berries could serve as food, maybe. "Jacket pockets- screwdriver, flash drive, notebook, energy bar, ID. Better." I briefly flipped through the tiny notebook, smiling at the various diagrams and pictures- all of my ideas were in there, and I always carried it around in case I thought of something new. "Glasses on my face, watch on my wrist, emergency ten dollars tucked into my socks." I paused, then, and looked at the two other items I had, which I'd been clutching throughout this whole ordeal. "Finally, your poke ball, and this… what did that person call it? A Gee-ball?"

Drowzee snorted quietly, shaking his trunk back and forth as he held his head still. I decided that that meant 'no'.

"Whatever. I wonder if there's anything in it… go!" I tried tossing the ball into the air, but it didn't work- it just landed in the grass nearby with a thud. I glared at the useless object.

"Okay. We gotta find a town or something, or we're gonna starve. Or, I am, anyway… do you only eat dreams?" Drowzee wagged his trunk up and down. "Hey, that's useful. I think." Then again, he'd be eating _my _dreams, probably. I shivered at the thought.

"I just wish I had some idea where we are," I mumbled, looking around again. The surroundings felt strangely familiar, though I'd never seen the plain before. But I didn't know where I was- I could have been in a completely different country and I wouldn't have had a clue.

Also, I didn't like that I hadn't seen any other people. I was used to people, lots of people surrounding me and filling my ears with noise. All that open space felt wrong.

"C'mon, let's go down that way," I said suddenly, pointing towards the maybe-water. "Water means more people, right? It's worth a shot."

Drowzee just watched me calmly as I gathered all of my things together again and lumbered quietly beside me as we started walking. That felt right, deep down; I was a trainer, he was my Pokemon, and we were just going exploring on a normal adventure.

Normal.

_Right._


	3. First Battle

Another thing they don't tell you about your Pokemon journey is that fifty percent of it will be just plain _boring_.

Drowzee and I walked for quite a while, and it wasn't like we could really talk- maybe he'd understand what I was saying, but he couldn't reply effectively. We couldn't find any other Pokemon to train against, and the landscape got really boring, seeing as it was nothing but grass. Also, it was hot (which was one thing that confused me- it had been nighttime when I'd 'left home', but the sun was in the middle of the sky), and I was getting progressively hungrier, and on top of everything we were still lost with no clear plan to get us back home.

So I tried thinking about the crazy people who had invaded my home, and the useless silver and gold poke ball they'd been after. I tried to deduce who they were, where they might have come from, but each theory I came up with sounded crazier than the last. I barely knew anything about them- I couldn't make any conclusions. The same thing was true of the green creature which wanted to be freed, which had (maybe) put me in such a strange place.

The only thing that all of that thinking managed to do was put me in a bad mood.

"I'm taking a break," I snapped, stopping as we reached a stray tree that looked like it had nothing left to live for. Drowzee, who had been lagging further and further behind as we walked, kept ambling forward slowly. I sat down on the ground with a drawn-out sigh, grabbing my notebook out of my coat's pocket. What I _really_ wanted to do was make my dad's laptop magically appear and find some kind of wireless connection, since I was already suffering from electronic withdrawal (I had to wonder what kind of people would live in such an empty place, anyway. What if they only had dial-up?).

Drowzee eventually reached the tree, but he decided to stay standing, sniffing the air delicately. I tried to make a design for a telescope out of a single glass lens, bark, and a few twigs. It wasn't one of my most realistic ideas, but I played with it anyway, since I really did want to see if the glimmer out there on the horizon was water. Needless to say, it didn't want to work.

We stayed there for some twenty minutes as I gave up on the telescope and started sketching randomly instead. I'm not good at creative art, but I love taking things that I see in real life and trying to put them on paper. My friends from school always said that I wasn't half bad at it. I actually managed to forget the situation for a while as I let my pen wander, lost in the pattern of careful tracing and shading.

That was when I heard someone scream.

Actually, it was more of a yell then a scream, and it sounded more angry than upset, but it was a sound that hadn't come from me or Drowzee all the same. I scrambled to my feet, looking off to the left, which was where the sound had come from. Human or Pokemon? I couldn't even tell.

"C'mon, Drowzee," I muttered, jogging off in the direction which I _thought_ was right. It was quite likely that I was getting myself into huge trouble, but trouble would be better than mind-numbing boredom by far. Besides, if I helped that person, maybe it would make me a hero or something. That sounded appealing.

Drowzee refused to run- he just shuffled along at a slightly-faster pace instead- but it turned out that the scream hadn't come from too far away, so it didn't matter. I knew we were in the right place, then; there was a girl standing there, and we hadn't we seen any humans at all before. She was surrounded by a crowd of small pink and slightly-larger purple Pokemon, and all of them were growling at her. I recognized the small ones, since Snubbull are pretty common in Johto, and it seemed likely that the purple ones were their evolution, Granbull.

I couldn't see the girl standing in the middle of the crowd very clearly because she kept moving around, but I could tell that her straight hair was a chestnut brown and that she wearing a plain cotton shirt and skirt, both of which looked rough and homespun. She was making faces at the Pokemon, and they were all making faces right back, but she looked a little scared, I decided. Scared enough to need help.

The group hadn't noticed us, it seemed, but that wasn't going to last for long. I pushed Drowzee out in front of me, took a deep breath, and flew right into my first battle as a trainer. "Drowzee, use Psychic!" I shouted, like all of the cool trainers always did on the radio. The official attack strategy I'd chosen was a strong one, sure to succeed as an opening move.

He just turned his head around and gave me a look. In front of us, a bunch of the Snubbull had shuffled around to growl at us instead; the girl had whirled back to stare at me.

"Uh- don't you know Psychic?" I whispered, frowning at my Pokemon. He wiggled his trunk left and right quickly, so I wracked my brain for whatever other patterns I knew. "Um, uh, let's see. Try tackling them? Hey, what's that look for? Okay- Confusion? Oh, come on, all the wild Drowzee know how to do a Confusion attack!"

By that point all of the wild Pokemon had noticed us, and two of the Granbull had started to charge at us, which was _not_ a pretty picture. I squeaked (in a manly way, y'know), then stuttered "Use D-disable!".

Drowzee finally turned his head back around, blinking rapidly before opening his eyes wide. A series of blue rings shot out from in front of him, growing as they moved forward, and they surrounded the wild Pokemon. The two Granbull skidded to a halt, looking confused, and all of the others abruptly stopped growling. _Finally_, a strategy he actually knew.

At that point, I got a brilliant idea. "Now, Hypnosis!" I said more loudly, standing up straight again.

In front of me, Drowzee paused for a moment before slowly moving his hands back and forth. A thin blue wash of light sped out from him, one that slowly moved across to cover the Pokemon. Snubbull and Granbull fell left and right, each one of them snoring loudly as they hit the ground. I would've been ecstatic, but I was worried about how slowly the light seemed to move- some of the Pokemon had figured out what was going on, and they were waddling off to the side, trying to escape the effects of the attack.

At that point, I realized that the girl had disappeared. I looked around franticly, then nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized that she was standing right next to me.

"Come," she hissed, wrinkling her nose and glaring at me. She was awfully freckled and had a blotchy complexion, but her eyes were the kind of brilliant green that catch your attention right away. She was also at least three inches taller then me, which was annoying. On the other hand, she had escaped from the Snubbull somehow, so I decided to trust her for a minute or so.

She darted off a few meters away, then turned and glared when she realized that I wasn't following. I grabbed Drowzee's arm and started to pull him towards her, hoping that he would keep up the attack, but the blue waves stopped as soon as I touched him. As the air started to clear, I saw that the Snubbull and Granbull who were still awake were all running towards us- and they looked plenty mad.

"Run!" I screamed, my voice going up about two octaves. That time, Drowzee paid attention. We both ran frantically after the girl, who had started dashing into the distance again. I got winded pretty quickly, not being used to sprinting at all, but I didn't stop or look back until the girl finally came to a halt. At that point, I put my hands on my knees and wheezed, head spinning, while she stomped towards me and stared me down. Next to me, Drowzee flopped down onto the ground, panting.

"… I do not believe it. You're far younger than me!" She sighed, running her fingers through her short hair. "Well, so be it. What is your name, Trainer?"

"Monroe," I managed to choke out between greedy gasps for air. I was rather busy with wondering whether training always involved that much running around. I'd already decided that, if it did, I wouldn't be spending much time away from home after all.

"_Mon_-row? A strange name." She sniffed haughtily. "I am called Florence. Do you reside nearby, Trainer Monroe, or would you prefer lodgings for the night?"

Her odd way of speaking was starting to get to me, and I thought that she had no right to make fun of my name when hers was so- so _old-fashioned_, but I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity. "Oh, a place to stay would be great. And, do you have food? I'm starving."

Her eyes slowly narrowed, and she crossed her arms over her thin chest with a little 'huff!' sound. "I will ask my village to provide for you. You have-" she made a face- "saved my life, after all."

With that, she turned around and stalked off into the distance (again) with her head held high. Drowzee and I were left to run after her with half-uttered protests, while I still had to quietly wonder- if I had just saved her life, why was she so upset?

Then I realized that she could probably answer one of my most important questions, so I stopped abruptly, caught my breath, and yelled, "hey, wait! Can you tell us where we are?"

She paused for a very short moment, then turned and raised her eyebrows. When she spoke, her voice was condescending and sarcastic, like she couldn't believe that I could be such an idiot. Her words, however, were level, factual, not to be disputed- and entirely impossible.

"The plains of Goldenrod, of course."


	4. Enrui

_Special thanks to Lusewing for being the first to review! By the way, have I mentioned how much I love reviewers? Because I do love you guys a whole heck of a lot!_

_Also, as we get deeper into the historical aspects of the story, you'll notice more and more obscure references that I found on Bulbapedia. For example, 'majū' has interesting and plot-revealing connotations; you might want to look it up!_

* * *

"That's stupid," I replied automatically.

Florence looked fairly insulted, and she opened and closed her mouth a few times before responding frostily. "Say what you like, Trainer. You find yourself in the plains of Goldenrod, close to my village, called Enrui; that is a fact."

"But, but I mean-" she had turned and started walking again, so I struggled to catch up while continuing to talk. "Goldenrod- no open land- bit of'a forest, maybe- some routes- a _plain?_"

"This land has always been open, Trainer _Mon_roe," she said easily, keeping up her fast pace. "You are not thinking of the Forest of Ilex, surely?"

Okay, now we were on familiar ground. "Monroe," I protested first, taking the stress off the first syllable. Then I gasped, finally managing to pull even with her (Drowzee was still lagging behind). "I know- 'bout Ilex Forest. I, I'm just confused. What about- the city?"

"A city? Here?" Florence laughed, rather snidely, I thought. "You are sadly misinformed, Trainer." Also, she was really starting to get on my nerves, with that whole calling me Trainer thing. "The nearest city is Violet, and it takes many days to travel there. In these ranges, you will find only smaller settlements."

Only my refusal to get left behind was keeping me moving. This girl had never heard of Goldenrod City? How could something like that happen? After all, I thought sarcastically, it's _only_ the biggest city in Johto. That was assuming I was in the same region. But if I wasn't, how could so many other normal places still exist?

At that point, we passed a stick shaved of its bark, sharpened on the end, which had been stuck into the ground. Maybe five meters away on the left and right, other sticks had been poked into the dirt. I wouldn't have noticed it, but Florence paused for a moment (which I was incredibly grateful for) and pointed it out. "There lies our border, Trainer. Make sure your majū notes it; a territorial dispute would be most unwelcome."

"My what now?"

She shot me an odd look. "Your Drowzee."

"Um, okay?" I glanced behind myself, sheepish at having to be reminded that I owned a Pokemon (which she was calling something else, for some reason). Drowzee's eyes were open again, and he was panting slightly. That made me feel guilty. I knew I probably should return him, but to be honest, I wasn't feeling particularly safe, and having a Pokemon who could at least put others to sleep out there with me was unbelievably comforting.

Florence sniffed, then stalked back off once more. I wanted to keep asking her questions, to figure out what was going on, but she really, really wasn't helping. Besides, now that we had cleared one of the taller hills I could see a series of hut-like houses in the distance, with a beach not far behind that. And there were other people, too, most of them close to the settlement, wandering about, chatting, doing chores. A giant fire was located in the middle of the cluster of huts, and there were several women standing around it, roasting things on sticks.

Something seemed off about the entire picture, but I couldn't tell what it was.

"My village," Florence told me as we continued speed-walking forward, her chin up in the air. "We are not the most elite, but we have two Trainers to our name," yep, there she went with Trainers again, "and we protect ourselves quite well. The majority of us fish for our livelihood."

"That's terribly fascinating and all, but I still don't know—"

"Florence! Oh, my dear, _wherever_ did you run off to this time? You _know_ how I worry when you wander past the border."

I was (rudely) interrupted by a woman about Mom's age suddenly running towards us from the settlement, if you could describe taking many, many tiny steps at an unbelievably fast rate 'running'. Florence developed a rather resigned look as soon as she approached.

"I… lost track of where I was, Mother." She faked a smile (even I could tell it was fake) when the woman made a small groaning noise. "Nothing disastrous happened; this Trainer found me."

"Oh? Oh!" The woman turned to look at me, then actually jumped half a foot in the air when Drowzee wandered up to stand nearby. She stepped back behind Florence, then, shivering.

At that point I realized exactly what was wrong with the village- there were no Pokemon. People were abundant, but no creatures were living alongside them. There weren't even any poke balls that I could see on belts, no sign at all of non-human life.

"It's alright, Mother," Florence said, more kindly than I'd heard her speak before. "Trainer Monroe may look young, but his majū listens to him." And there she went again with crazy terms. I frowned, noting that she used the term as a replacement of Pokemon- maybe it was a special dialect? I really didn't specialize in that sort of thing, so I wasn't sure. "Do you know where Trainer Michael is currently located? We must discuss this with him."

"Of course," she said quietly, pointing in the direction of a group of older men who were talking animatedly. Florence walked off towards them without another word and I followed her belatedly, sneaking a glance back at her mother. The woman had her eyes fixed on Drowzee, almost like she refused to let him out of her sight.

"Zeee, Drow dru," Drowzee suddenly said next to me, making me jump and almost fall flat on my face. He caught at my arm to stop me from falling at the last minute.

"Uh, thanks." I peered over at him. "Though… you do realize I've got no idea what you're saying?"

His trunk flicked up, then down.

"Okay then." Drowzee continued staring at me, like he was trying to communicate in some fashion that didn't involve speaking, but I couldn't figure out what it was so I looked away a little awkwardly. My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, which didn't really help the situation.

Drowzee was probably hungry too, for that matter- but I didn't like the idea of being nearby when he was 'eating'.

At that point we had reached the group of men, and Florence had stopped and bowed respectfully. I followed her example quickly, botching it something awful, and Drowzee stood next to me, looking around himself with a bored expression.

"Florence?" One of the men, a tall, dashing-looking type, stepped forward, eyebrows raised. He stood out from the others due to his style of dress; his clothes were slightly higher-quality, and he also had cloths wrapped around his shoulders and lower arms. The other men stood around him with their heads tilted slightly in deference, so I guessed that he was important.

"Trainer Michael," she said quietly and actually _respectfully_, which shocked me more than a little. It also surprised me that he was a trainer- I couldn't see any poke balls on him, and most people displayed theirs proudly. "This is Trainer Monroe. I encountered him some distance outside of the borders. He requires food and lodging."

"Does he?" Michael looked down at me, smiling, and I ducked my head bashfully. I still managed to catch the look of surprise that flashed across the man's handsome face, though. "But- you're just a child! You have befriended a majū already?"

I was also really, _really_ confused about the emphasis these people kept trying to put on Pokemon. I opened my mouth to explain that I'd been a trainer for less than a day and that my dad had caught Drowzee, not me, but something about the way the others were looking at me made me sure that they wouldn't understand.

"It could be a trick," one of the other men pointed out. "Drowzee are psychic; this one could be using the boy, manipulating him to get close to us."

"Your concern is valid," Michael said quietly; rather too quickly, which made me think he was suspicious already. He turned his head, frowning. "Florence?

Perhaps it was just because I hadn't had anything to drink in quite a while, but my throat was getting really dry. I cleared it loudly, looking back and forth among the adults.

Florence looked down, speaking in a halting tone. She was frowning, I noticed, her eyes narrowed. "He- he saved me. I was, was in over my head, and--"

"It is not like we can trust the girl," one of the older men growled. Florence's head shot up, and she glared in the man's direction. "She is an odd one. You never know what she might say."

"We do not question other members of the village, Albert," Michael said darkly. "Still, we must be cautious above everything else. Therefore, I will test him."

So, I was getting really nervous by that point. I kept looking for someone to tell me what to do, what to say, but Drowzee couldn't really help and Florence wasn't looking at me. So I just had to slouch there, awkward, while Michael stood up straight, flung his head back towards the sky, and whistled piercingly.

For half a minute or so, nothing happened. Then I noticed a small shape shooting through the sky, heading straight towards us. I thought about telling someone, but then noticed that Michael had seen the shape as well, and that he was smiling widely. The small, round shape barreled in closer, and I could finally see that it was a Hoothoot, slightly larger than was usual for the species.

The Pokemon shot down to us, arcing at the last minute and landing on Michael's outstretched arm- I saw why he had cloths around it right away, since the Hoothoot's claws looked plenty sharp, even if he was only standing on one leg. The little Pokemon bent down to nip at Michael's arm, then said "Hoo, t'oo?" in an obviously remonstrating tone.

"Sorry for waking you up early, partner," Michael said, his voice soft, "but I need your help."

I frowned at 'waking him up'. Why hadn't the Pokemon been in a poke ball- why had Michael needed to summon him that way? More importantly, I knew that Hoothoot were alright and everything, but they weren't overly powerful. Why was everyone treating this guy with such respect? I took a step back, uneasy.

"Hoot?"

"I need you to test these two," Michael said, still calm, "and see if their bond is true."

The Hoothoot nodded once, then rotated his head around almost completely- which looked really, really strange- and focused his giant eyes on me.

And that was about when everything in my life turned upside down.


	5. Foresight

When the Hoothoot focused his eyes on me, eyes that were glowing red, my world erupted into colors.

At first, the light was so bright that I couldn't distinguish a single thing- it was overwhelming, incapable of being given distinctive hues. But then the Hoothoot let out a low, whistling noise, and shades of gray washed over my eyes. I could see- and clearly, much more clearly than ever before. I could see the other humans blatantly, the way nature intended them. Dull strands of faded light tied them together, strands that intertwined across all of the people except for me.

Brighter and stronger was the golden cord that wove between the Hoothoot and his trainer. The strands in it were woven together skillfully, beautifully, such that I could see each individual thread if I peered closely enough. The golden light seemed special, almost awe-inspiring. I wanted something like it. I wanted to see that kind of light between me and my Pokemon, even if he _was_ a Drowzee, and I turned my head to look.

No cord existed between my Pokemon and me- there was a rope in its place.

It shone blindingly, unnaturally white, and seemed connected as a whole, not tied together in any intricate fashion. I reached out a hand, trying to touch it, but my hand passed straight through- did that make it any less real? I hadn't noticed any sort of bond between my starter and myself; where had this come from?

I half-noticed that the rope seemed to dive into my jacket's pocket on my side, so I tucked in my hands awkwardly, wrapping my fingers around Drowzee's poke ball, to see if it had changed. It hadn't. Real life works that way, most of the time.

As abruptly as it had appeared, the light shot away. I blinked rapidly, adjusting to the change better with experience, and saw that the Hoothoot's eyes were fading from brilliant red back to a duller hue. A quick glance further up revealed that Michael's eyes were also fading, from pure white back to brown. Definitely creepy. I looked back towards Drowzee to see that my Pokemon had his eyes closed and was apparently sleeping while standing up. That kind of ruined the whole mystical air about the situation.

"Well?" one of the others asked, impatience and fear coloring his voice. Fear? Really? I was just a kid with an under-trained Pokemon, when all was said and done. I couldn't take on a full-grown man.

"It is... unusual." Michael frowned, rubbing his eyes with his free hand, and his Hoothoot nudged him with his beak. "The boy is not being controlled, but- I cannot decipher what it is that's between them. It's not similar to what I've seen before."

The other men erupted into talk at his words, debating several possibilities (the first being that I was actually a monster in disguise, which didn't bode well for my future). I wanted to ask what the Hoothoot had just done to make the lights all appear, but they (being typical adults) had forgotten that I was right in front of them, or so their actions seemed to indicate. Florence, on the other hand, decided to poke me.

"Hey," I protested, trying to swat her hand away. She jabbed at my shoulder twice as hard in response. "Hey!"

"Well, you do not seem like any kind of ghost," she stated, frowning down at me like I was some object to be ogled over. I rubbed my shoulder defensively. "You claim to be a Trainer?"

"Of _course _I'm a trainer." Well, technically I wasn't- my parents and I had planned to go down to the central Pokemon Center to get all the registration paperwork filled out after I had gotten my starter, but that had never happened due to the crazy event that had landed me in the whole situation in the first place. I frowned at that memory, recalling the strange green Pokemon and its roundabout words. Perhaps, if I had paid more attention...

"Then you must help me."

"What with?" I asked automatically, before remembering that I didn't even really _like_ this person, not to mention how I had plenty of my own problems to deal with. Like, you know, the adults who were going to decide whether or not to let me starve?

"I need to find my partner, my majū," she replied loftily, sticking her chin up into the air. "You interrupted one of my, ah, _attempts_ out there in the wilderness. Now that Trainer Michael has tested you, however, I am sure that your intentions were noble." She glared at me, making it quite clear that she believed no such thing and would gladly tell _that_ to anyone who asked if I didn't do what she said. I gulped. "But Trainer Michael here will not hear of me traveling to further places, out in the wild. You must travel with me instead."

"Um." _Bad _idea. "Why don't they want you to find a Poke- a partner?"

She gave me a look which clearly stated that I was an idiot (again), then tugged at a lock of her hair. "Because I'm female. They think I'm too delicate for the calling, and--"

"Okay. Stop it."

If there's anything I hate, it's a sob-story. I can't stand people who bring attention to themselves all the time, people who demand the spotlight. I hate it when people decide that the world is against them and make up reasons for why that's so. I didn't want to think that Florence could be like that- she had seemed practical, if pushy, before.

Florence looked hurt, though, so I decided to explain myself, give her a chance at redemption. I mean- I'm never the bad guy! I let people have second chances! When I remember to, that is.

"You can't use that as an excuse. There have been laws in place for- oh, over a hundred years now. They were set down by the Pokemon League at its formation, and they're laws that specifically forbid any kind of discrimination towards beginners based on gender, background, race, whatever. Everyone's supposed to start with an equal chance, though obviously the rich kids will get stronger Pokemon bought for them. Heck, just look at our Champion- she's a girl, isn't she? And no one's beaten Crystal in three years!"

I nodded sagely to prove my point, only to find that Florence was staring at me, flabbergasted. I didn't see why- _I _was making sense, after all. So what if the people in this strange place used different terms and didn't know about certain cities? Some things _had_ to be the same.

"Trainer Monroe," Florence asked quietly, "in- in your hometown, for how long has the Orange League existed?"

I blinked, deflating my high-and-might attitude and trying to rationalize the strange question while I fished up an answer, trying to remember a number that sounded right. "Um, almost five hundred years, I think." I smiled, remembering certain radio commercials from the previous summer. "They've been making a big deal out of it lately, something about an anniversary coming up and the Orange League being the oldest one existing. It's pretty--"

"It was just formed eight years ago," Florence said quietly.

I froze.

"We've only heard through rumors and from travelers, naturally, but it has been said that Trainers from across the globe will go there to test their bonds, their skills. It's growing in popularity, they say. Other regions are thinking of starting their own local tournaments, these travelers tell us, to encourage Training, since it's such a useful skill."

I was grateful for the fact that Florence was still rambling- her nonsensical words kept me rooted to the world while my head kept spinning. It also helped to keep me from being overwhelmed by the voice in my head that kept saying 'oh. OH.' in such a ridiculously naive way.

"... I had noticed that you were behind the times," Florence said quietly, tilting her head. "Seems like you're actually ahead."

"Trainer Monroe?"

I jumped as Michael addressed me again, head still whirling from what I had just figured out. First reaction: had the adults figured it out? Second: did I _want_ them to?

"We have reached a decision." His Hoothoot had hopped his way up onto his shoulder, and the bird tilted his head to the side, cooing softly, as Michael spoke. "We will give you a chance to prove your good intentions and bond in a battle. If you win, we will assist you in whatever mission you currently travel on; if you lose, you must leave our land immediately."


	6. Belief

My heart pounded loudly as I clutched the poke ball in my pocket. My first trainer battle, and it was going to be a life-or-death one- I wasn't delusional. Sure, I couldn't remember much from history lessons about what had happened some five hundred years back, but I was pretty sure that wild Pokemon were supposed to be plenty dangerous back then, and it wasn't like I had ever lived on my own; how would I get food?

"You- want me to battle you?" I asked, my voice sailing into the upper octaves halfway through the sentence. Two of the men exchanged guilty glances but Michael didn't look phased in the least.

"Not me," he replied calmly. "Hoothoot and I do not battle- we survey the land, act as an inner defense. You will be facing Trainer Richard and his partner." The man glanced over at Florence and frowned. "Take the boy out to the shore; he must be tested directly. I'll follow in a moment. And make sure that Richard understands the severity of the situation."

Florence bowed her head and murmured something in reply, and then I was being tugged away with her bony fingers wrapped so tightly around my wrist that I was afraid she would snap my hand off. I barely had enough time to grab Drowzee's ear to pull him along- he woke up with a loud bray, making all of the adults (except Michael) jump, then stomped after the two of us, eyes narrowed into thin slits.

"Leggo'me," I mumbled, trying to tug my hand away, as soon as we were out of earshot of the adults. I didn't make any progress in getting free.

"Well, Trainer Monroe, you are doomed indeed," Florence replied, sounding glum. "Trainer Richard is of the second level; you do not stand the slightest chance against him in a fight."

I really didn't care what she was mumbling about, okay? I just wanted to figure out how to stay alive. My stomach was continuously aching now, which didn't help. I started to drag my feet a bit as Florence made a sharp turn, going around the collection of huts, aiming away from all the other people. "Why're you all making such a big deal about this? I don't wanna take over or anything, I just want something to eat and a place to sleep for the night."

"Trainer Monroe--"

"And stop callin' me that!" She looked back at me, eyebrows raised, and I sighed. "Just- just Monroe is fine."

"To befriend a majū takes skill and a pure heart," Florence replied dully, still walking forward at a ridiculous pace. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure that Drowzee was still following, trying to swallow her words. Me? Skilled? Pure-hearted? "The title of Trainer is not lightly earned, and is to be respected. I do not know what definition Trainer has been given in your time- do you not think yourself worthy of ours?"

Well, with the way these people went on about it, no. I wasn't anything special- just a normal kid with his Pokemon. Nevertheless, I decided to keep my mouth clamped shut.

"We make this into 'such a big deal' because if you _are_ possessed or of evil intent you could destroy us all in a single night." I looked up at her, horrified, but the girl refused to meet my eyes. "Survival goes to the strongest and the most prepared. We are careful people, Trainer Monroe."

"Ah, Flo! What sprout have you dug up, eh?"

Both of our heads snapped towards the right as a booming echo of a voice sounded from the trees nearby. Florence squeezed my wrist tightly as a very tall (and rather heavyset) man walked out of the trees, a wide grin etched on his face.

"Trainer Richard," she said, the corners of her mouth inching upward, and I jumped. That was my opponent? "We have a problem."

Richard was much older than Michael had been- much more adult-aged, though exactly how old that was, I couldn't tell. He had a short-cut beard and thinning, frizzy brown hair, and his skin was very, very dark. He wore a heavy jacket over a bare chest with shorts that were held up by a frayed piece of rope. Where Michael had looked well put-together, Richard was falling apart.

"I'll say we do," he agreed, covering the ground between us in a few short steps. "You went and found yourself a Drowzee, eh, girl?"

"Not ex--"

"And Michael threw a fit over it, eh?"

"No, sir, you see--"

"Well, I still say you'll probably regret it, but you'll make one helluva Trainer, girl."

"Richard!" she finally shouted, as I cowered behind her- hadn't she been all about showing proper respect before? "The Drowzee is not mine!"

The man's eyes widened. I risked a peek up at Florence and saw that she was blushing.

"Trainer Richard," she said after taking a deep breath and pushing me forward (to my mumbled protest), "meet Trainer Monroe. Or, at least, he claims to be a Trainer--"

"And Michael's worried that he isn't." Richard rubbed a hand over his beard, peering down at me, and I squirmed. Then, without warning, he stepped to the side and picked up Drowzee.

"Hey!" I shouted, startled- Drowzee was _my_ Pokemon. What did this guy think he was doing? Drowzee didn't seem happy either, since he waved his arms around a lot and said "Rooooooo!" rather loudly. It wasn't like the man was affected, unfortunately, since Drowzee was a dwarf next to him. "What're you doing? Put him down!"

"I'm examining this Drowzee," Richard replied calmly. Drowzee pounded his fists against the man's head ineffectually.

"Well, well- stop it!" I said more loudly, rushing over to try and tug Drowzee down. I didn't care if it got me into trouble, I still wasn't going to let this guy bully my Pokemon for no reason. "You're scaring him, I think, knock it off--"

"Okay." Richard grinned, putting Drowzee down carefully (my starter immediately sat down, grumbling under his breath), then held out a hand. "I believe you."

Wait. What?

"He is not accustomed to our culture, Trainer Richard," Florence said in the background. She sounded amused.

"Oh, really?" Richard raised his eyebrows, but also dropped his giant hand. "Well, Trainer Monroe, I am a practical man. I believe things when I see them. You protected your partner when he was threatened- I say that proved your bond."

"Th-thanks," I replied, startled. Somehow, though, I didn't think I was going to get off that easy.

Florence seemed to agree. "Trainer Michael won't like this," she warned, chewing her lower lip. "He'll ask for a vote."

"Good," Richard said, cracking his knuckles loudly. "I've been waiting for an excuse to call him out."

"Trainer Richard, you remember the last time you two tried--"

"I know, girl." The big man pouted, which I swear is still one of the strangest expressions I've ever seen. "Must you remind me of my embarrassing moments, Flo?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying, go along with it this time. Go easy on him in the battle, let him tie. Then everyone will be content."

I opened my mouth to argue that I could battle on my own, thank you very much, but my stomach chose that moment to grumble very loudly. Everyone- including Drowzee- looked at me, then Richard raised a hand.

"I am not going to battle that kid until we _both_ have had something to eat."

With that statement, I found myself being carted back off towards the village. When Richard wanted something done, it happened, or else.

'Something to eat' turned out to be a murky-looking stew that tasted strongly of fish. The village seemed to operate on a communal basis; everyone ate together, with one giant meal cooked over the fire in the center of the village that I had noticed earlier. It felt primitive to me, yet comfortable at the same time. I was also hungry enough to not worry about the actual contents of my bowl.

I had finally decided to return Drowzee, too. He was safely in his poke ball, away from any more crazy adults. I felt a bit guilty on that count- Richard and Florence were under the impression that Drowzee was staying in the forest, foraging for himself, while we ate (I had returned him when they weren't looking). Florence approved of that, since it kept the panic down. Neither of them seemed to know that Drowzee only ate dreams.

It had occurred to me not long before that poke balls probably didn't exist in the time I was then living in. That had brought on plenty more questions, most of them derived from watching one too many sci-fi films late at night- what if I changed the time stream? Couldn't I cause a paradox, just by being there? How had I gone back in time in the first place? That green Pokemon- had it done something?

Keeping my mouth shut on most things seemed like the best plan overall.

The village seemed divided, mostly due to my presence, I was willing to bet. Michael had caused a ruckus when Richard declared that he and I would battle in the morning, once we were well rested and fed; it seemed like the two trainers were often at odds. But many of the other people were avoiding me, and several of the younger kids looked scared.

Richard and Florence stayed near me, though. Richard sat next to me throughout the meal, talking happily about life in the village and sharing several humorous anecdotes. I ignored them, mostly, since I was too absorbed with figuring things out. Florence was keeping busy with my notebook- she had noticed that I kept checking my pockets to make sure Drowzee was still safe and had demanded that I tell her what I was hiding. I'd had no choice but to pull out my precious ideas and let her browse through them. At least that kept her quiet.

The village retired early- I couldn't blame them, it got dark _quickly_ without electricity- and Richard let me sleep on the floor of his little house. It was practically empty; he had explained to me that he spent most of his time outside, keeping an eye on the ships out in the water, since that was where all the men worked during the day. It made me think that his Pokemon was some sort of fish.

I fell asleep quickly, no energy left to worry about my parents, or my future in this world, or the battle I had to face in the morning. My last thoughts centered around the comfort of at least knowing that I'd be able to sleep soundly, for sure.

But that night, my dreams were filled with ideas and thoughts which were not my own.


	7. Richard's Partner

_You're surrounded on all sides by walls- sloping, enclosing, suffocating walls. They keep out the air and the light and everything that is good about the world, but they also deter the cold, the heat, the pain, the memories... they warp time, so that hours become seconds and every second lasts a decade._

Something didn't feel right.

_Inside of the walls, it takes great effort to think. This is a blessing in an undesirable form; when there is no thought there can be no boredom, but no reminiscence, either. And words cycle into endless loops and conjugations inside of these walls. Words collide, form pictures, and pictures form ideas, but within these boundaries only one concept can exist at a time._

_Hypotheses will have to do instead._

… I would have thought that, at least, if I could feel at all. My thoughts were strangely sluggish just then. I wondered if I was still breathing.

_Emotions, impressions, decisions compress, form facts and falsehoods. There is a quest you are on. Do not forget it. Do not. __**Do not.**_

_It's not like you should worry. They will not let you forget. But you must learn to listen, and understand what you hear._

_You could sniff again, taste the imaginings of the everlasting sprite, but those memories are older, dusty, tired from repetition. You have a larger buffet just now._

It didn't help that I couldn't seem to control what I saw.

_And the dreams of the young are vibrant, colorful indeed._

_How wasteful that these creatures can forget such beautiful things..._

When I woke up the next dawn to Richard's shout that it was sunrise I felt awful, like I hadn't slept at all. I figured that that was due to lying all night on a dirt floor with nothing but a blanket for cover with a fully-grown man snoring in the background. I'd have to get used to such distractions if I wanted to keep being a trainer, but all the same...

I couldn't remember whatever I had been thinking about the night before, but for some reason I felt guilty about leaving Drowzee in his poke ball. So I waited until Richard had left the little house, then let my starter out. He seemed content, if still sleepy, and even let out an energetic "Zee!".

"Good morning to you, too," I replied, yawning. "Hey, we've got our battle today. Can you maybe show me what moves you know before we're, y'know, out there? I already know about Disable and Hypnosis."

"Drow, 'ee owz," Drowzee replied- then he balled his stubby hands into fists and started slamming them against the floor. I had to scratch my head and try listing several different attacks before confirming that it was Pound.

"So we've got Pound, Disable, and Hypnosis." Not the best arsenal of moves. "Sure you can't use Confusion? C'mon, give it a try."

Drowzee opened his eyes wide obediently, and I could see him furrowing his forehead in concentration, but it didn't make a difference- nothing changed at all.

"Well, hey. Good effort," I mumbled, trying to conceal my disappointment (and probably failing). With only one offensive move we would almost certainly lose, unless Richard's Pokemon was a Magikarp- and I seriously doubted that.

"Trainer Monroe?" The man in question poked his head through his open front door, looking at the two of us. "Come. It is time for our battle."

I nodded once, gulping, then forced my legs to start moving. Drowzee stayed by my side as we followed Richard out into the gray light of the beginning day. I kept my eyes down, refusing to look left or right, while we walked. We were going to fight, and I was going to _lose_. I glanced behind once, saw that a crowd of people were following us to the shore, and kept my eyes half-closed for the rest of the trip.

I didn't notice when the ground under my feet changed from dirt to sand, but I did stop when I saw a wave of water slapping over the grains directly in front of my feet (and how had we walked so fast?). I looked up at that point to see that Richard was still walking, straight into the water. He had taken his jacket off so that his brown skin gleamed in the weak rays of the morning sun. Another wave splashed up, soaking my sneakers and socks, and I shuddered, jumping back- the water was _cold._

A final glance revealed Richard diving into the water with the kind of ease that clearly had much practice behind it. He didn't resurface for what felt like a long time, to the point where I was actually getting worried that the man had drowned, or something, 'cause normal people couldn't hold their breath for that long, right?

Then, without warning, he exploded out of the water, a wide grin on his face.

"Trainer Monroe, I challenge you to a battle between majū," he shouted, and my jaw dropped. Richard was sitting on top of a bulbous creature, a blue thing with red globs on top and large angry eyes and _that was a Tentacruel which was not cool okay_. "Do you accept?"

My mind screamed at me to say no, to run away while I still had the chance, did I really want my one asset in this world to be _killed _by a _giant jellyfish_? Unfortunately, when I opened my mouth, I found myself squeaking out "Y-yes."

"Excellent!" Richard dove forward into the water, surfacing a few seconds later a couple of meters to the side. He spread his arms out to keep afloat, then yelled, "Wrap!"

One of the Tentacruel's larger tentacles shot out of the water, wrapping around Drowzee and picking him up before I could say a word. My starter screeched unhappily as the tentacle slowly tightened, squeezing the air out of him.

My mind went blank for one very, very unhappy moment as I tried to remember what moves Drowzee knew, what he could possibly do to escape from this situation, and oh Mew it would be all my fault if I let him get hurt--

"Use Disable!" I yelled as soon as the attack popped into my head. Then, a second later- "but then hang onto the Tentacruel!"

Drowzee turned his head, opened his eyes wide, and shot the thin blue rings off towards the Pokemon's head. The tentacle loosened, letting go of Drowzee, but he wrapped his short arms around the feeler and dug his fingers in. The jellyfish shook his tentacle angrily to no result and made a deep, growling noise.

"Supersonic!" Richard commanded, barely half a second after I had started to yell "Now, try Hypnosis!"

The Pokemon fired off their waves of mental energy at the same time, so the attacks collided, sending sparks of light off in every direction. The Tentacruel blinked, following the lights with his eyes; Drowzee, on the other hand, used the distraction to start crawling his way up the tentacle. I was surprised at his initiative, but pleasantly so.

"Careful, my partner," Richard shouted from the water. "Block his progress with Poison Sting!"

The Tentacruel narrowed his eyes, then lifted his head. A series of bright purple darts exploded from his mouth- I guessed that it was his mouth, anyway, it was kind of hard to tell- and shot into Drowzee. He cried out, loosening his hold on the tentacle but not letting go.

I scratched my ear hurriedly, wondering what to do. I needed to get Drowzee closer to the Tentacruel's body, but if it kept using long-range attacks there'd be nothing for us to do. Drowzee was starting to look tired already, too. It suddenly occurred to me that Drowzee was probably just as new to all of this as I was. My dad had caught him in the wild, hadn't he? Did wild Pokemon fight battles on a regular basis?

"Again!" Richard shouted, and the poison darts shot out once more.

"I-into th'water," I yelled, garbling the sentence in my rush, not able to think of anything else.

Drowzee swiveled around the tentacle, pushing himself under the water, and the poison darts struck the tentacle instead. The Tentacruel jerked his tentacle up violently in response to the sting, sending Drowzee (who had been holding on) flying through the air. By some stroke of incredible luck he managed to land right on top of the Tentacruel's head.

"Use pound!" I shouted, while Richard frowned. Drowzee obeyed, beating his fists and tail against the blue creature. It didn't seem to hurt him, as the Pokemon only opened his eyes wide in response, but maybe, if he hit the right spot...

"I concede," Richard boomed.

The tension that had been surrounding me since I had woken up started to flow away quite abruptly, and the crowd of people who had been watching the entire time erupted in a cacophony of sound.

"W-wh-what?" I stammered, watching in confusion as the other trainer swam to shore, pulling himself up onto land and shaking water out of his ears. He had been winning- Drowzee and I hadn't stood a chance- I glanced back out at the ocean, where Drowzee was balancing on top of the Tentacruel very, very carefully.

"Smile and try to appear confidant," Richard muttered to me as he walked by. Then he folded his arms over his chest and glared at the other villagers. "You all saw for yourselves that the creature listened to the boy in battle; they are truly a team. To force them to battle past what their experience dictates is foolish."

"I do not agree, Trainer Richard," Michael growled, stepping out from the crowd of people. He didn't have his Hoothoot with him, and there were dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't slept much recently. I vaguely remembered that he had looked tired the night before, too, but the effect was more pronounced now. "The boy _must _be tested properly."

"At his partner's risk?" Richard growled. One of the people in the crowd groaned before being cut off by an abrupt hush, and I sensed an old argument surfacing. "You go past any reasonable--"

"It is the only way we can--"

"Help!"

Both trainers quickly turned towards the sound of the voice, falling silent, and the crowd of people slowly shifted, releasing a petite woman with a lovely face. I blinked, recognizing her- she was Florence's mother. I had met her the night before.

The woman shuddered, rubbing her arms slowly as she looked back and forth between the trainers, her eyes wide. When she spoke, her voice was husky and her words trembled under their own weight.

"My daughter is gone."


	8. Responsibility

I'll admit it, I was shocked by the woman's words, though they did explain why I hadn't seen Florence since the previous night. I didn't like the girl much, sure, but I didn't want to think that anyone I knew could be- missing? _dead?_ I had no idea what the woman even meant by her words.

To my great surprise, however, neither one of the two trainers seemed phased at all.

"Not _again_," Michael droned, brushing his black bangs out of his eyes. "My apologies, Maybelle, but we have traveled out there to rescue your wayward daughter dozens of times in the past. She has never been harmed in the least by her excursions before; why worry now?"

Richard elbowed his upper arm, making Michael yelp in protest. "_Do_ let me apologize for this worthless excuse of a Trainer's lack of manners, Maybelle. Unfortunately, I must agree with his conclusion. Florence is quite capable of taking care of herself. You need not panic."

"Manners? What do you know of manners, you giant oaf?"

"Better an oaf than a flimsy excuse for a fighter!"

The two continued flinging insults at each other, effectively ignoring the woman wringing her hands next to them. I gathered from the resigned looks on the villagers' faces and the muttering and giggling that spread through the crowd that this was no unusual occurrence; it seemed as though I had managed to land myself in the middle of some kind of power struggle. Such was my luck.

Florence's mother- Maybelle, they had said?- still looked pretty upset, and I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to be able to get Drowzee back for a while anyway, so I decided to go over and figure out exactly what Florence was getting up to. After all, she was one of the only two people I could actually claim to know in that place (I didn't want to know Michael, he had been a complete jerk).

Maybelle didn't even wait for me to open my mouth- she just skittered forward and grasped my hand in her two tiny palms. "You are a Trainer," she babbled, her brown-black eyes darting around my face anxiously, "so you must help her. Please- she is my only child!"

I squirmed, feeling _way_ awkward. "Um," I mumbled, "of course I'd help, I jus' don't think she needs it. I mean, she seemed fine yest--"

"No, no," she interrupted, shaking her head vigorously, which made several tendrils of hair escape from the messy bun she had pulled it back in. "You do not understand- she has not run off again, for I saw her leaving. I asked where she was going, implored her to stay, but she did not listen! That is not like my daughter, Trainer Monroe."

I wanted to argue that it seemed perfectly normal for Florence to ignore anything she didn't want to hear, but I did remember how she had seemed softer around her mother the day before. I frowned, trying to think of a nice reason that would make the situation better, maybe a comforting word or two.

"I would go after her myself," the woman whispered, her voice trembling, "but, but- I cannot leave these grounds, not even for her. I am too great a coward." She sniffed, casting her eyes down, and I tried desperately to find an interesting-looking heap of sand that I could stare at so I wouldn't have to look at her. I had thought people only behaved that way in books or movies, _really_. "You wouldn't leave her alone out there, if she was in trouble, would you, Trainer?"

"Of course not!"

The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I wanted to warp them, somehow, to say that of course I didn't want to _but_ I had a lot of troubles of my own to deal with just then, so why couldn't she just explain this to the two nice trainers over that way while I escaped, thanks and goodbye. Unfortunately, life doesn't work that way.

"Oh, thank you!" she cried, smiling up at me in a teary way that immediately made me feel like a selfish jerk for not wanting to help. The more analytical part of my brain wondered how she could make me react so quickly. "I did see the direction she ran off in- south, towards the forests. She only left recently, so your majū should be able to track her with ease."

"Right." I glanced back at the water, where Drowzee was now clinging to the Tentacruel's head and squealing as the water Pokemon flapped its tentacles around, generating medium-sized waves that turned the water rough and choppy. "Ease. Sure."

"Drowzee are not exceedingly good trackers," Michael drawled. We both turned back towards the two trainers, who had apparently stopped arguing at some point in time. Michael had his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, while Richard was standing with his hands on his hips.

The second trainer snorted, a his mouth inching into a smile. "Are you suggesting--"

"Well, I do want to observe the boy more closely," Michael snapped. "Besides, I have not surveyed the southern forests in quite some time. It would be a useful experience."

"If you hurt the boy, Trainer Michael, I swear to Arceus--"

"Oh, do not become melodramatic." Michael turned towards the woman and nodded. "It's settled. Trainer Monroe and I will find your daughter."

I had been busy looking back and forth between the two, wondering when they had decided to stop hating each other, so it took me about five seconds to figure out what had happened. By then the entire village had sprung into action, calling out to each other for traveling supplies and the like as they bustled their way away from the shore. I was almost swept away with them before I managed to shout that I _still needed my Drowzee, thanks_.

Time seemed to move too quickly for me to keep up with it as Richard got my starter back on the shore, as one of the village women measured my limbs and thrust a scratchy outfit at me (exclaiming at the 'fine sewing' of my jacket as she did so), as Michael pulled me along to examine food, emergency bandages, and flint, as people who had shunned me the night before suddenly clustered all around, giving Drowzee a bit of space but otherwise treating me like one of them.

In the midst of the chaos, I checked my pockets for my own supplies and found that my notebook was missing. Thinking back, I realized that Florence had had it last and started to form hazy conclusions.

"D'ya think Florence might've seen something in my notes that made her suspicious?" I whispered to Drowzee as soon as I could, unable to approach anyone else for advice. He waved his trunk ambiguously in reply, which I took to mean 'maybe, but what else do you want me to say about it?'.

Then, far too quickly, Michael had said his goodbyes, Richard had slapped my back a few times with a gruff 'good luck', and I was back on the road with the addition of an extremely useful bag of supplies and an entirely different person than I'd had with me before.

Michael didn't say anything, at first, just pointing out the appropriate path and leading the way. Drowzee and I followed close behind, silent as well. Michael turned out to be a much slower walker than Florence, to my great relief, so neither I nor my Pokemon got exhausted right away.

… of course, you can only walk in silence for so long before it becomes mind-numbingly boring. About an hour into the hike I gave up on acting professional and started teaching Drowzee how to play I Spy. He caught on quickly enough and was able to make his guesses known by pointing, his choices clear by pantomime. Occasionally he'd just stare at me blankly when it was _my_ turn to guess and I'd said something unusual, at which point I'd have to go into definitions and explanations.

Michael tolerated this for around ten minutes before abruptly stopping in the middle of the path and turning around to glare at us.

"You--" he started, almost growling; then he sighed and started again, more calmly. "Why, Trainer Monroe, are you playing children's games with your partner?"

I looked at Drowzee, and he looked back at me. "... 'cause I'm a child?" I ventured, scratching my ear.

"_Clearly. _However, you're a Trainer primarily, and Trainers must be mature, responsible, and useful," Michael proclaimed, tucking in his chin and staring down at me. "How is playing this guessing game supposed to help others?"

"I'm useful!" I protested, annoyed; when he didn't respond, I frowned. "Seriously! I mean, I... I can make all sorts of stuff. Practical stuff."

"Such as?"

I opened my mouth, about to brag about how I could (theoretically) make a working poke ball from scratch, but stopped myself when I realized that that wasn't the best example, given the situation. "Well... I could make us a compass, if I had a magnet."

Michael raised his eyebrows, smirking.

"I could!" I snapped, ignoring the fact that he hadn't said anything, and stomped past him, ducking my head. "And I _am_ mature and responsible, _especially_ for my age, so if you'd just give me half a chance--"

I stopped mid-stomp, balancing precariously on one foot while staring at the ground directly under the other. A Kakuna was lying there, its beady black eyes staring up at me. I wavered, trying to stay balanced, and ended up falling backwards in a heap. I could distinctly hear Drowzee snickering somewhere behind me. Michael, on the other hand, walked up and stared down at the wild Pokemon, vague and disinterested.

"My, my. It would seem that we've entered the Forest of Ilex."


	9. Into the Forest

I _hated_ Ilex Forest.

It was kind of weird, actually, since I had gone through it twice before back in my own time with no serious qualms. But the forest was different, more menacing I suppose. There were no beaten-down paths in this Ilex, no friendly signs to tell you that you'd better think twice before jumping over that ledge- all we got was a thin little strip of ground that wove around here and there, its undergrowth a bit shorter than the greenery encroaching on both sides.

Michael continued to lead the way, which was fine by me. He had whistled down his Hoothoot again once the trees had started appearing around us regularly and she was currently perched on his shoulder, watching the surroundings sharply. Yes, she- I had been informed _quite_ sternly by Michael that his partner was female and would I mind not insulting her so terribly? It seemed a bit excessive as I had only referred to it casually, but I let it slide because it had gotten really dark really quickly under the trees and he actually seemed to know where he was going.

It wasn't the confusing paths that made me hate Ilex Forest, though, nor the darkness- it was the Pokemon. They were aggressive and they were _everywhere_. The Caterpie and Weedle in the area seemed to take exception to my feet; they kept darting onto the path, trying to attack my sneakers furiously. Michael would only laugh when this happened, but Drowzee would force them off with a pound or two after I screeched loudly enough.

Michael was much more serious about the Paras and Oddish, though. He refused to get close to either species, choosing to dash through bushes and around trees in order to avoid them. It took me a good fifteen minutes to work up enough courage to ask him why.

"They can poison your partner, or freeze her in place," he growled, lifting a hand to smooth down his Hoothoot's feathers. "It- it happened to us, once. She became stiff and would not move. I tried everything I could think of for three full days, until I finally found a berry that fixed her..." his voice trailed off as he continued petting the Hoothoot mechanically, and I reached out to lay my hand on Drowzee's shoulder without thinking about it.

That was something I hadn't considered before, something that made the whole situation much more frightening. There were no Pokemon Centers to go to anymore, no automatic healing machines. If Drowzee fainted, would he wake up again? What could I do if he didn't? Luckily, he seemed to regain normal health with time, so as long as I was careful about picking my battles we'd be fine. I hoped.

The Paras and Oddish were pretty withdrawn and reclusive, but the Zubat were downright obnoxious. They loved to fly an inch away from a person's face, screeching wildly the entire time. The creatures stopped bothering Michael after his Hoothoot pecked one silly, but they kept flying right in front of Drowzee and me, refusing to leave us alone. I had a feeling that, if Michael hadn't been there to back us up, they would have attacked much more viciously.

The message was clear: we weren't wanted. The forest was the Pokemon's home, not ours.

"So. How're we going to find Florence?" I asked after a while, batting ineffectively at the Pidgey who had decided to join the Zubat in their fun. The bird flipped– his? Her? I had gotten a lot more confused about Pokemon's genders in general- anyway, its tail at me before lazily winging off.

"We are going to keep following her trail," Michael replied calmly, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "See how the grass before us is slightly bent? It returns to its proper height after a mere three hours under normal conditions. She has passed this way recently."

"Oh." I scratched at my ear furiously, squinting down at the grass under my feet. It looked the same as the grass on either side, just shorter. "But what're we gonna do then? Just drag her back with us?"

"If necessary."

"Oh."

Michael had kept his replies clipped and to-the-point since entering the forest, for the most part, so he wasn't all that fun to talk to. I started playing with Drowzee again instead, trying to see if I could get him to use Confusion properly. He still hadn't gotten the hang of it, but I thought we were making progress since he was starting to know when a Pokemon would attack a few seconds before it actually happened. That seemed at least a bit more like a psychic attack to me.

Actually, I was looking forward to his learning Confusion for more than one reason. One, it would be a much stronger attack, so we could actually protect ourselves; two, we would (maybe) be able to communicate then. I could just vaguely remember learning that psychic Pokemon could communicate with others via tele-something in school, which seemed plenty handy now. Maybe Drowzee would figure out how to use that- telekinethy? Maybe?- after he had learned a real psychic attack. Then we could figure out a game plan for the entire absurd situation and decide how to get out of it. I really doubted that he was happy with our time frame, after all. Certainly I wasn't.

"Here's Asyawact Lake again," Michael said quietly, interrupting the daydreams I had slowly been building up (which had involved me somehow saving the day and getting back home again, duh). "We are getting closer to the center of the forest."

I peered over at the dark water he had motioned towards, which we could see through some of the trees. He had first pointed it out as soon as we had entered the forest, which just made me all the more confused now. "So, we're been going in circles, then?"

"Hardly." Michael's Hoothoot turned her head around to look at me scathingly for him. I cringed back a little, but Drowzee just yawned. "There are many areas in this forest which no human may enter, Trainer Monroe. We must find our way around them if we wish to find our way through."

That seemed terribly inefficient to me- why couldn't they just build some kind of road straight through, honestly?- but I kept my mouth shut. I didn't really fancy the idea of being left alone in the middle of some dark and spooky forest, after all. And Michael seemed almost reverent when he talked about the forest, like it was something to be respected. I didn't want to offend him. So I just brushed off another Metapod that had decided to fall practically right on my head and kept on walking.

It was probably only ten minutes after that when we were ambushed.

A large, dark figure jumped out of the trees to our left a few dozen yards ahead with no warning whatsoever, blocking the path. I screamed- that figure could have been _any_ kind of dangerous Pokemon, after all- but Michael just backed up a step and looked to his Hoothoot. She clicked her beak in condescension, letting out a few bored-sounding hoots, and then he went up to examine the creature with not a word to me. I thought he had gone insane, or something, to take such risks.

Michael hadn't gone crazy- the figure was just Florence.

She looked just the same as the night before, except that she was now holding onto my notebook rather possessively. I decided that my incredible skill at noticing that it was missing and she probably had it the night before made up for being a complete fool at the moment.

"You need to leave," she hissed at the two of us, completely disregarding Michael's raised eyebrows (they had scooted up so high that I could see'em clearly, outlined right there against the pale skin of his forehead) and my spluttered indignation. "Now. This is none of your business."

"Flo-_rence_," I hissed in reply, hoping that Michael wasn't paying much attention, "this is _not_ the time to be tryin' to catch a Poke- a partner or somethin', come _on--_"

Actually, Michael hadn't been paying much attention to _my_ words- he'd been observing Florence instead. He started speaking halfway through my complaints. "Hmph. Maybelle was correct. What trouble have you gotten up to, girl?"

"Nothing!" she growled, backing up a step (and ignoring me completely). "Just go back. I'm fine."

"Your eyes are distant and your explanations thin," Michael continued, absolutely serious. "You look like one possessed, Florence. Tell me what has happened, or I will need to take action."

I stared at the older man, disgusted and terrified- but I couldn't keep up those feelings for long. Michael was acting professional now, composed. This was what he _did_, I could tell. This was the area where he knew the rules. His Hoothoot was leaning forward on his shoulder, watching Florence's every movement with care.

The girl I knew looked from us to the forest, chewing on her lower lip. Her quiet pause lasted for an uncomfortable length of time, until she finally gave in. "Fine. But I can't tell you- I'll show you instead."

And just like that we went back to walking, Florence in the lead. My feet had gotten sore a while back, but I wasn't about to bring it up around such hardy people. So, since I was still curious, I managed to sneak my way past Michael, next to Florence. Drowzee tagged along after me, sniffing at the air with a strange expression on his face.

"Hey. Flo." Florence ignored me, so I tried again. "Mind telling me what the heck you're doing?"

She sighed, then held out her hand in front of me. She was holding out my notebook, opened and folded over so one of the pages was showing. I could see a few diagrams there, nothing special, and a few little doodles of faces and geometric patterns.

"Yeah, that's mine. What's your point?"

She sighed (yes, again- I didn't see why she couldn't just _say _something), then used her other hand to point at one doodle in particular. I squinted down at it for a moment before my heart almost stopped. It was the fairy-creature that had gotten me into the situation in the first place, the one that had been green and stuff. I didn't remember drawing it, but I wasn't usually thinking much when I doodled. Apparently Florence had recognized it, and apparently she knew what it meant.

And maybe, just maybe that meant that she could help.


	10. Florence's Time

I bothered and questioned Florence about that strange Pokemon for at least three minutes straight, but she just kept her mouth shut and eyes focused forwards. I didn't manage to get a single useful word out of her about the matter until a few days later when we managed to escape the adults for a while, and I think she only told me then because she knew no one would believe me if I repeated her words.

I'll pass on her story now, though, since it was mainly relevant to the situation at hand. Knowing the facts earlier wouldn't have helped me, anyway; nothing could keep us from the path we were headed down at that point.

* * *

_When I was very young, the rules were simple. Know your place- respect your elders- have pride in your people._

_I knew my place. I was no different from any other child, neither better nor worse. I was ordinary._

_I respected my elders. That was simple; they held the power, as any fool could see. They were the leaders, and we were merely following._

_I had great pride in my people, my village. We were- are- nomads, never settling in one place for more than a season, and it fits our lifestyle well. We would find an open plain, unclaimed, and we would root there until the weather changed, moving north and south as needed. Travelers may call us poor or simple, but we have culture and community and a livelihood that never fails to support us. We need nothing more of life._

_We had only one Trainer then- Trainer Richard. He would lead the way with his maj__ū__, scaling the oceans to find the largest schools of Magikarp or Krabby. We children would wave the boats off as they left in the morning, though we were often pulled back by our mothers and the oldest adults. The older ones always spent the mornings in fear, for we had no Trainer to stay with the people in the village, to protect them in case of attack. But we younger ones were too naïve to know this fear as more than something abstract, and we would sometimes escape to roam the land inside our territory on our own._

_It was during an autumn, when we were located directly on the edge of Ilex, when I first saw her. I was not alone at the time- two other children were with me. We were being fools, going further and further into the forest without reason or care on idiotic dares. Actually, that was the only reason why we saw her at all- because we were in a part of the forest no human was supposed to enter. She didn't seem to mind, though, and I even heard her giggling when the three of us ran screaming at the sight of her._

_One of the boys told Trainer Richard that we had seen a strange green maj__ū__ on the edge of the forest (we weren't about to tell the truth about our location), one we had never seen before, but he brushed it off. Trainer Richard did not see why the creature should concern him, if it kept to itself; he only cared for the water and the village._

_The boys never dared venture into the trees again, but something drew me back to the clearing after a week had passed. I didn't understand why, and I didn't truly expect to make sense of it. It was simply something true._

_I didn't see her on my first attempt, nor my second, but I did manage to run into her the third time I went wandering through the forest on my own. She took an interest in me, then. We would play simple games sometimes- I think she was lonely, or just bored. But she found me amusing. I even wondered to myself if we could become p-partners, once I had grown older. It was a stupid thought- she was always the one in control in those situations, and I was only there because she permitted it- but I had it all the same._

_We moved again when cold winds swept across the plains, away from the forest. I tried to say goodbye, but couldn't find her, and she never came to find me or showed any sign that I had meant anything to her at all._

_Her name was Celebi.

* * *

_

A name was almost all I got out of that talk, a name and a few facts. Celebi seemed to be one of a kind, as Florence never spotted her with other Pokemon like her; she was also fond of growing things (a grass type, perhaps?), and had at least one psychic attack which she occasionally used to move things around. She was whimsical and childish, but powerful.

Yeah. None of that was particularly helpful, especially after the fact.

So, back in the forest, I had eventually given up on bothering Florence into revealing anything. She was being as stubborn and stuck-up as ever, and if Michael couldn't intimidate her into talking, _I_ certainly couldn't. I felt kind of hurt, though, since she seemed to be snubbing me on purpose and I still couldn't see what I had done wrong. Other than landing right in the middle of her world without warning, but whatever.

Luckily, I didn't have to wait too long for information- less than ten minutes had passed by the time we reached Florence's destination. I knew we were in the right place right away because she suddenly flung her arm out, making me nearly lose my balance.

"See!" she hissed, glaring over at me. I backed up a step at the intensity of her glare- I had done _nothing_ to deserve it, after all, why wasn't she aiming it at Michael?- but then looked around for whatever she had found. It didn't take long to realize what it was.

A simple wooden structure was centered in the clearing up ahead, a plain little thing that reminded me more of a statue than anything else- a decorative piece. There were a few faded flowers and berries on the ground in front of it, like people had been making offerings. The wood itself looked weathered but not necessarily old.

And right there, hovering right over the structure- there was my fairy.

She hadn't seen me yet, since the three of us were still in the shadows cast by the trees; that reminded me of our first meeting, eerily enough. I had a feeling that she'd be able to notice me if she cared. Celebi was focused on the sapling that had rooted itself a foot away from the structure, perfectly intent as she hovered next to it. A fine spray of green light was being cast out of her tiny hands, and it settled itself over the young tree elegantly.

Michael caught his breath behind me as he pulled even with us. I glanced over my shoulder quickly to see that he was more puzzled than stunned or scared- his eyes were flicking over Celebi's wings, antenna, and the sapling in a calculating way. He had classified her as a potential threat, I realized, and was trying to figure out exactly what she could do.

My eyes slid over Florence on their way back around to Celebi, and I vaguely noted that the girl was watching the surrounding forest, not the Pokemon. She was nervous, but I couldn't tell why. Drowzee, on the other hand, had his trunk wrinkled up and looked more intent than I'd ever seen him before.

I finally looked back to Celebi- she had stopped casting the green light and had clapped her hands together with a happy little "Ce!"- and made a split-second decision. She had gotten me into the entire mess; she would get me out of it. My problem was solved, I could get home right then and there, and wouldn't my mother and father be so shocked? Grinning in anticipation at the thought, I stepped out into the clearing.

Celebi was whirling around even as Florence grabbed the back of my jacket and tried to yank me backwards, and for a moment our eyes locked. I saw her stare at me with much more innocence this time, with good nature and a tiny trace of fear- then she suddenly blinked out of existence.

"_What_ were you _thinking?_" Florence hissed at me, struggling her way out of the foliage as well and turning me around so she could shake me (which really didn't do much except make me even more confused). "I've found her for the first time since- since- you _fool!_"

"Florence, what was that?" Michael growled from behind us, stepping over and out of the taller grass and undergrowth. His Hoothoot had taken wing as soon as Celebi had disappeared and she was currently circling the structure, cooing quietly. I glanced at my own Pokemon on reflex and discovered that Drowzee was sniffing around the area, almost acting professional.

"You _idiot_," Florence continued to rant, rattling me for emphasis and ignoring Michael. I could see the older man rolling his eyes in the background as she continued to shake me and as I continued to try to fight my way free.

"Flo- stop it, Florence, you're being ridi- stop _shaking_-"

"You just ruined everything, you know that, yes? Monroe, you are indisputably a--"

All three of us were cut off by the sound of something crunching through the grass off to the side. We all froze and watched as, after a few seconds had passed, a man in a dark brown coat fell through the foliage right flat onto the ground and stared up at us all.

"Hello," he ventured after a moment, grinning feebly; "anyone mind giving me a hand up?"

"--you," Florence breathed out to me, much more quietly now, "are a _genius._"


	11. Taming Maju

We learned in short order that the man's name was Isaac, that he was a researcher, and that he had been terribly lost for the past two hours. The second fact threw me for a few different loops- Florence's village had left me under the impression that _all_ of Johto would now be some kind of communal land, one containing no technological advancements or artisans at all. I was quickly learning that that impression was very, very wrong.

Isaac was from Azalea- it was oh-so-comforting to hear a familiar name for once- and had a young daughter who he mentioned at least three times in the first two minutes of speaking to us. He was a very talkative man, and he didn't seem to notice that Michael still had his guard up or that Florence was glaring at him fiercely. In fact, he was so genuinely nice and open (compared to all of the other messed-up people I'd met) that I liked him almost immediately.

"... but after I managed to get away from that Oddish, I saw that there was light up ahead, which could only mean it was the shrine's clearing!" Isaac said, summing up his long-winded explanation of how he had made his way there in the first place. He had only gotten up enough to sit cross-legged where he had fallen, and he picked at the grass around him mindlessly as he talked. "I had to fight my way through plenty of shrubberies to get here, of course, but it was decidedly worth the journey."

"That does not explain what you are doing here," Florence continued in her uniquely rude way. She had let go of me once Isaac fell in but she was still standing right next to me, and the glare she was shooting at the man was aggressive even for her. She wasn't the only unduly suspicious one- Drowzee had waddled up to my side at a pace unusually fast for him as soon as the man appeared, and he was staring at Isaac with unblinking eyes.

"I'm visiting the shrine, young girl," Isaac replied sharply, as if it was the most obvious statement in the world. Florence looked slightly put off, but she clamped her mouth shut anyway. Then Isaac tilted his head to the side, peering up at her (we were all still standing, after all). "Why? What are _you _doing here?"

"Traveling," Michael said in a clipped voice from behind us as I opened my mouth to say that it was a long story, really. "Mister... Isaac, would you mind explaining to me how you've managed to go through the forest without a majū?"

"Luck and a good deal of running," Isaac replied, grinning. I giggled despite myself, which made Florence shoot me a disgusted look. A glance over my shoulder revealed that Michael seemed unhappy, but not like he was going to complain. Then again, he always seemed a bit glummer when his Hoothoot wasn't with him, and she had flown off further into the forest a bit before.

"But I see that you don't have that sort of problem," Isaac continued, gesturing toward Drowzee (my Pokemon laid his ears back flat, maybe at being referred to as a tool of some sort). "He's yours, boy? Would you mind if I looked at him?"

"It's Monroe," I replied automatically before hearing the rest of his words. "... um, what?"

Isaac had already gotten shakily up to his feet and bounced the few yards over to Drowzee, though. He looked like he might swing a punch at the much-older man at first, but then Isaac ran a hand over my Pokemon's head and weighed his arm gently, and Drowzee's head swung up in surprise. After ten seconds or so he had actually relaxed enough to stop glaring, to close his eyes and hum through his throat a bit.

My jaw must've dropped, since Florence elbowed me and muttered something insulting. I didn't bother with actually listening to what it was. Michael had walked up to join us, and he looked plenty surprised as well.

"How are you--"

"Your majū is very young," Isaac said, but he sounded approving rather than surprised or disagreeable or something. "I suppose that is why he listens to you, yes?" I nodded immediately, but my hand dived into my pocket as I palmed Drowzee's poke ball with guilt. It was stupid- it was perfectly _normal_ for people to catch their Pokemon- but the way these people treated the creatures, like they had to be won over into complete trust and love or something, all of that was starting to get to me. "You ought to have him exercise his trunk more, he needs to build up the muscles for battle. He's in good health otherwise and a perfectly agreeable Drowzee."

"How do you _know_ all of this?" I blurted out as Michael muttered "What do _you_ know of majū?". Florence snorted and pretended not to care, though I was willing to bet that she was vitally interested.

"My studies are in taming majū, so I have found out a great deal about those already subdued," Isaac replied, voice amused, as he bent down to examine Drowzee's feet. "Drowzee are often seen in these parts, and we have had one Trainer with a specimen as his partner pass through our town in the past. I had a chance to examine him in-depth then."

"That sounds very interesting," Michael said softly from behind me. When I looked at him, his chocolate-brown eyes were actually lit up with some emotion, fascination, I guessed. "You're studying them to find ways to build up defenses?"

Isaac continued examining Drowzee's toes, testing how well the joints worked, but his smile faded. "You're from one of the smaller villages, I suppose? Yes, I've heard of the dangers recently, but my research is for- well, academic purposes. We used to live in harmony with the majū, you know."

"Some of us still do," Florence replied softly. I looked at her in surprise at that remark- she had her head lowered so that her bangs covered her eyes, and she was examining her hand intently. I grinned slightly when I noticed that her nails were clearly bitten, like mine.

"Very true," Isaac commented with approval. "My people, for example, happen to be very well situated. Of course," and he grinned, standing up at that point, "the forest is a rather different matter."

"Azalea has this obsession with Slowpoke--" Florence started to mutter to me as Michael stepped up to Isaac, asking him some question or another.

"I _know_ that," I replied automatically, insulted. I wanted to retract the words as soon as they were out of my mouth, though, since Florence actually looked a bit hurt. And really, it _was_ pretty interesting that Azalea had kept the same traditions for so long. Maybe. Whatever, I could _pretend_ to be interested. "Sorry."

She huffed, brushing her bangs away. "So, some things are still the same in your time, Trainer Monroe?"

I contemplated slamming my forehead against a handy nearby tree- were we seriously back to the whole Trainer thing _again_? At least she had dropped it while yelling at me. "Uh, yeah. Not that much, though. Thanks for tryin' to help."

She made a face at my choice of words, but Michael saved me from future altercations by interrupting with a well-timed "Trainer Monroe?".

"Yeah?" I replied, wincing at the title again.

"Isaac has kindly volunteered to examine my own partner back in his lodgings if we accompany him back to Azalea once he has spent his time at the shrine. Do you object to this?"

"Um..." I glanced over at Florence, wondering why she wasn't being given an option, but she just stared blankly at me. "Sounds fine to me, I guess."

Azalea. Azalea would maybe be similar enough to the town I had visited twice on field trips to give me a few clues as to what to do. Once in Azalea, I could get back on track.

"Thank you," Isaac said, smiling down at me- when standing he was easily much taller than me, and also noticeably older than Michael. "Now, if you do not mind...?"

Michael herded me out to the other edge of the clearing while Isaac sat down in front of the shrine, with Florence and Drowzee following the two of us close behind. He immediately delivered a five-minute whispered lecture about how this could prove to be an invaluable opportunity for the entire village as long as I didn't mess it up, so if I could just stay out of the way and keep my mouth shut so none of my odd nonsense would spill out, that would be lovely. That wasn't what he actually said, but it was effectively the tone of his speech- plus a tiny bit of sarcasm that I added for flavor, I'll admit.

He turned to Florence once he had finished with me and demanded to know how she had known about Celebi.

"I... saw her in the forest earlier," she replied, and I realized with a start that she had done no such thing- she had seen Celebi in my notebook! "I had seen glimpses of her before, so I wanted to investigate."

"But she is not dangerous? The majū only cares for plants?"

Michael's interest in the Pokemon ended once Florence had convinced him that Celebi would never harm another. I wanted to learn more, but Florence kept glancing between Isaac and Michael and shushing me aggressively whenever I tried to ask.

Anyway, Isaac finally finished up with whatever he had been doing at the shrine, and then he and Michael figured out which route they would take to get to Azalea, which Isaac said was close by. I was glad to hear that it was only an hour's journey to reach the town since night was starting to fall in the forest, which I found plenty creepy. The wild Pokemon didn't attack us in the clearing, though they would sometimes fly or run through, but I could only guess what would happen if I tried to _sleep_ there.

"Listen, Monroe," Florence whispered to me as Isaac led the way out of the clearing. "Do not tell _him_ of Celebi--"

"Whassit?" I didn't know the fairy's name at that point in time, after all.

She rolled her eyes (unsurprisingly). "The green majū, idiot. Don't let Mister Isaac find out. It isn't safe, for her _or _us."

"You're paranoid," I accused, though I privately decided to take her advice. I needed to do some deep thinking about the fairy, after all, and about the ideas connected to her- like how to get home.

"If I am, it's worked very well for me so far," she replied firmly, smiling at me (actually, honestly smiling!) as she gestured for me to move in front of her. I took the opportunity and jumped ahead so that I was walking next to Drowzee, hoping that he would keep protecting me from the crazy bug Pokemon that liked to attack my feet.

So we were off to Azalea, and hopefully to (real!) answers from there.


	12. Azalea

The remainder of our walk through Ilex was un-fun to the extreme. It had gotten really dark under the cover of the trees, so dark that I could only see about a foot or so ahead of me clearly. It made talking to the others impossible since we all had to focus entirely on where we were stepping next, and it also made it much easier for the wild Pokemon to randomly attack me. I could see now that I wasn't a special target, though- they focused on all four of us humans, though they left Drowzee (and Hoothoot, once she returned) alone.

But after a few hours of warding off attacks, fighting through the vines and spinarak-webs that occasionally covered the paths, and privately wondering if we might get _eaten_ by something all had inched by, we finally found ourselves stumbling out of the forest, only temporarily harmed. The change was much more abrupt this time- we went from being in densely-packed trees to standing on the edge of cleared ground in less than a minute. A few old stumps that still hadn't been dug out of the earth told me how _that_ had happened.

The stumps weren't the only thing I could see, unfortunately. The pink creature standing right before us that was about as tall as me was _much_ more prominent.

Florence managed to clap a hand over my mouth before I screamed, which was probably good- we didn't need Isaac thinking I was a wimp or something. She looked pretty spooked too, though, with her shoulders back and eyes wide as they were. In front of us, Michael had stepped into a defensive position automatically, and Hoothoot looked like she was ready to launch herself off of his shoulder at a moment's notice. Even Drowzee was somewhat alert for once, since he had his eyes fully open and his fists up in the air, breath coming more quickly than was usual.

Isaac, however, was unperturbed. He kept his arms flat on his sides and bowed from his torso, smiling. "Greetings, Samuel. News from the town?"

I waited with every muscle uncomfortably tensed, Florence's hand still clapped over my mouth, as the pink thing turned its head towards us incredibly slowly. It- he?- was giving me the chance to observe him closely, so I took it. His torso was white and striped, but the rest of his body was smooth and pink, chubby; his only distinguishing trait was a giant shell that was stuck onto what looked like it might be a tail, a shell which had _eyes_. Those eyes moved faster than the creature's own, darting this way and that occasionally.

Finally I recognized what the Pokemon was and made myself relax. Slowbro weren't particularly dangerous, after all.

I had managed to yank Florence's hand off of my face by the time a voice echoed through my head, a very deep and echoy voice. It reminded me of dank caverns, slow-moving waves. _No_, it said, the word drawn out painfully slowly.

_That_ was what tele-something was like, I decided. I just needed to get Drowzee to learn how to use it properly.

"I'm glad to hear it," Isaac replied, smiling again. Then he motioned us forwards, out towards the area stripped of grass that stood before us- a road! An actual road! Not paved or anything, but it was clear-cut and a welcome sight all the same. I practically skipped onto it, indescribably happy at the change made by a smooth surface under my aching feet.

I glanced back once at the Slowbro, curious, to find that he was turning his head back to its initial position, slowly of course. Perhaps the town was using him as a guard? Still, it was odd to see a Pokemon out there by himself, no trainer close at hand.

Also, Isaac had called the Slowbro Samuel- the Pokemon had a name. I felt like slapping myself on the forehead for being surprised about that at all. Of _course_ he had a name, _lots_ of trainers either nicknamed their Pokemon or asked a handy psychic for the creature's natural name soon after they had been caught. My surprise was just another sign of how the different time was getting to me. Did Michael have a nickname for his Hoothoot, one that he only used around her? What about Richard and his Tentacruel? I surreptitiously glanced at Drowzee at that point, since he was walking next to me on the road, as quiet as ever. Did my starter have a name? I tried to think of him as a Desmond or a Nick, but I could only really envision him as Drowzee.

Why did he need a nickname, anyway? Wasn't I still bitter about him not being an electric Pokemon? My priorities had gotten all mixed up.

We finally reached some of the outlying houses at that point, which helped to distract me from my (mostly useless, to be honest) thoughts. I was eager to see what this _real_ Johto was like, all those- how many? Six hundred? I couldn't remember- years ago.

Azalea was different from Enrui in many ways. For one thing, the people who walked about the town were much more nicely dressed, and colors and styles were obvious all about me. The houses were nicer, too, and they looked much more permanent. Out on the outskirts we passed two inns, a few large houses, and a gigantic farm that had an orchard taking over all the land behind it. I caught a little kid peeking out at me from behind the fence of that house, a boy no more than seven years old, probably. He bit his thumb while staring at Drowzee and Hoothoot, his eyes narrowed into thin black slits.

The Slowpoke effect was blatant, much more obvious than I'd ever seen in Azalea before. Most houses were painted in shades of pink and cream, and almost all of the shops we encountered while walking further on had Slowpoke-themed names. In the town proper the Pokemon were everywhere, lazing on doorsteps, rooftops, in the middle of the street. Everyone treated them with great respect, and they occasionally yawned in reply. I saw one other Slowbro sitting in a general store's window, watching life outside pass by, but the evolutions were nonexistant otherwise.

My conclusion overall was that, besides the absence of technology, old Azalea wasn't all that different from the version I was used to. Present-day Azalea was a very historical place (probably due to their obsession with Slowpoke again), so that wasn't _too_ much of a surprise, but it was still all a sight for my sore eyes. I kept craning my neck around to see as much as I possibly could, especially the things they used to replace our more mechanical solutions. There were real street lamps out on the corners that needed to be lit, and Florence told me that I had better not stray too close to the buildings that didn't have overhangs because I didn't want someone's chamberpot contents dumped on me, did I?

I was disgusted enough by that revelation to not look too closely for others. At least the Enrui people had done their business in latrines, which had felt almost like scouting to me.

Isaac lived in a decently-sized house near the middle of the town, which made me think that he was rich. Most people who lived in the center of Goldenrod in anything other than a tiny, tiny apartment were wealthy, after all. He had a lock on his door and a number on the mat and it almost felt like home again when I walked inside.

Then I was barreled over by younger girl who came running in from a side room and knocked me flat on the floor, which kind of ruined the illusion.

"Papa!" she cried out as she sprung over me, laughing, and Isaac scooped her up into the air and spun her around once before setting her down, grinning widely as well. Florence, who had walked in beside me, glanced at me and then glanced away in rapid succession. I couldn't tell precisely but it seemed like she actually felt guilty for being so negative before. Anyway, at least she helped me off the floor rather than making some snide comment about me never being able to defend myself, even from little girls.

Actually, Florence had been quiet for almost the entire walk through the village, except for the chamberpot remark (_eww_). I hadn't been paying attention before since all the new sights were too exciting, but I peered at her more closely then. "Something wrong?" I muttered as I rubbed the shoulder that had slammed into the ground, wondering at how the little girl hadn't even apologized to me.

Florence shrugged and looked back at the two older men. I took it as a 'no', but filed away her odd behavior for later consideration.

We hadn't missed much- most of the first minute was occupied by the little girl exclaiming that 'of _course_ she'd been a good girl' and 'yes, yes, Maisy was wonderful, as always', et cetera, et cetera. I was soon able to deduce that Maisy was the almost-slender Slowpoke who wandered into the room long after the girl, looking even more bored than Drowzee usually did. My Pokemon wasn't bored at the moment- he was far too interested in sniffing around Maisy with his eyes scrunched up- but I figured it was only a matter of time.

"And you are a Trainer as well!" the little girl suddenly exclaimed, running away from Michael and up to me. I realized belatedly that all the high-pitched questions that had been asked before were from her to Michael, about his Pokemon doubtlessly. I glanced over at the man, unable to hold back a snicker at the pained look on his face.

"Yeah," I replied, sticking my hands in my pockets nonchalantly (and squishing one of the berries in there in the process). "Name's Monroe, and my- partner is Drowzee, over there."

"Yes, yes, but I am a Trainer _too_," the girl insisted, bouncing over to the Slowpoke and picking her up with a little twirl. "My Maisy and I shall be the strongest team in all of Johto- in all of the _world!_" The Slowpoke's tail swung back and forth as the little girl twirled her around, and the expression on the pink creature's face didn't change.

Isaac laughed a little uneasily in the background. "Charity," he said warningly- which left me plenty confused for a while until I figured out that it was the little girl's name- "let's not be too fanciful. You know girls don't go exploring the world with their majū like boys do."

(I could practically _feel_ Florence growling from next to me at that point.)

Charity sighed, pouting, while I stared at her. She wasn't all that much younger than me- two years, maybe. Did _I _act that silly and immature? Surely not. I was a Pokemon trainer, after all, I was supposed to be grown-up and responsible and... and terribly lost in another time. Well, getting lost was supposed to be part of the experience. I was just overdoing it a little.

Charity didn't give me a chance to think it over, though, since she placed her Slowpoke carefully on the floor, then grabbed my right hand and Florence's left, then started tugging us both towards the side door she had first run out of. "Come on," she whispered at us loudly, not seeming capable of actually modulating the volume of her voice, "let me show you the house!"

So we were dragged off away from the adults to see who-knew-what, like it or not. I didn't want to go- I wanted to ask the adults questions, wanted to figure out what Florence knew about the fairy, wanted to get _information-_ but it wasn't like I had a choice.


	13. Appearances Deceive

We were introduced to the sitting room; we were introduced to the kitchen; we were introduced to the small closet under the stairs. There didn't seem to be a single part of the house that Charity wasn't eager for us to meet. I had to marvel at her boundless energy and enthusiasm; she didn't seem to mind how Florence and myself were barely watching her bright presentations. I also grew to respect her Slowpoke, since she managed to follow us continuously despite Charity's high speeds.

I wasn't trying to look rude by ignoring the girl, honestly, but Florence was making it impossible for me to concentrate: she kept trying to hold whispered conversations while Charity was talking. She cuffed me around the head when I first whispered back that she should shush, so I decided it was better for everyone's sake if I just listened to what she wanted.

"You have stalled for long enough."

"What are you talking about?" I hissed back, trying to keep my interested face on for Charity's sake (the low chair she was currently chattering about wasn't helping my case).

Florence cuffed me again. Wrong answer, I guessed.

"The future. The time you came from. You must have the most useful information in the world, yet you keep it to yourself."

Oh, right. _That_. I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly as I realized that she had known about that truth for over a day. Everything had just been so confused, so busy, with the battle and then her running off after the fairy and Isaac and everything. I simply hadn't been able to tell her what I was doing there in the first place (as if I knew). "But that's complicated and stuff. I mean, have you ever seen _Back to the Futu_- oh, wait, guess you haven't. Y'see, I don't want to cause a paradox or-"

Florence glared down at me, hands glued to her hips, the very image of a stubborn teenage girl. I'd seen that look on babysitters before- I knew when to capitulate. Girls were more intimidating than the idea of the space-time continuum blowing up.

"Okay, fine," I whispered, following Charity into the next room. "What do you want to know?"

Florence chewed on her lower lip for a moment as we watched the younger girl grab a large book from the shelf she was standing near, exclaiming that her father knew _everything_ about majū. "Why didn't you want anyone to know about where you came from?" she finally asked.

I actually had to think about that for a moment, seeing as I hadn't really considered it before. "I guess- you people are really intimidating. I thought if the adults knew they'd throw me out, or something. I didn't want to risk that." I sighed quietly, scratching at my ear. "I'd like to go home, you know."

"How?"

"Still figuring that part out. Got any ideas?" I asked, though I seriously doubted that she knew anything about time travel.

Florence ignored my question. "How did you get here?"

I thanked Mew that it was something I could actually answer and shrugged. "Your green fairy-thing brought me here. Drowzee started it- he, um, ate her dreams, I think." Florence's eyes were wide, but she didn't interrupt. That was good- I was shaky on what had happened already. "Then she told me I had to help her, then she dropped us off here. I'm pretty clueless about what's going on beyond that."

"Your partner ate Celebi's dreams." Florence responded flatly.

"Yeah, sure." I pretended to look interested in the pictures Charity was showing us, hoping to kill the conversation.

"Drowzee in _general_ can eat a majū's dreams?"

"Humans' dreams, too."

"I do not believe it."

"Well, maybe I'll have him show you later on," I replied snidely. I would have had him prove it right then and there, but he wasn't available. My starter had elected to stay with the adults when we went on our little 'tour'; he'd even had the audacity to wave his trunk at me smugly when I got dragged off. That was how I'd interpreted the movement, at least.

Florence fell silent for about a minute, so I tried to pay attention to Charity again. She was babbling about how Maisy was the best Slowpoke in the world, or something, which made me wonder how she had managed to change topics so quickly.

"How had you found Celebi?"

It seemed as though our game of Twenty Questions wasn't over just yet. "I didn't, really," I mumbled, sticking my hands in my pockets. "I just got my hands on something connected to her."

Florence raised her eyebrows condescendingly, clearly saying that she doubted that.

"Really!" She still didn't look convinced, so I huffed and pulled the strange poke ball out of my pocket, not thinking about the action. It hadn't gotten scuffed up or dirty from my adventures so far; it still shone a bit, gold and silver as it was. "See? This was the thing he sniffed!"

She stared at the ball, silent, so I looked at it as well. Every time I so much as glanced at it, I remembered first seeing it- and thus remembered my dad's angry look, and the bad guys bursting in, and everything going wobbly and confused. Things hadn't gotten better since then, honestly. I was still plenty confused, and my position in life had gotten ridiculously wobblier.

Florence opened her mouth, about to make some sarcastic remark, probably, but she was neatly interrupted.

"Hey! What's that?" Charity asked, jumping forward to peer at the poke ball in my hand. I winced, suddenly remembering that the object _didn't exist yet. _Whoops.

"Um." I leapt for the first explanation that came to mind. 'It's a device that converts Pokemon into a portable format through an electrical transfusion between matter and energy' didn't suit the situation, unfortunately. "It's a toy."

"What does it do?" she asked, reaching out to touch the ball. I jerked it back out of her reach, which made Charity pout in a way that I guessed was cute. No- not _that_ way! After all, I knew perfectly well that girls were icky and not to be trusted and sometimes perfectly terrifying.

But back to the point. "It- it doesn't do anything," I muttered, "it just looks cool." _That_ was true enough, at least.

"How is it useful, then?" Florence grumbled, probably meaning several things with her words.

"It isn't." Another true fact.

"You're weird," Charity stated, rocking back on her heels and looking at me suspiciously. Her Slowpoke yawned in the background to punctuate the sentence.

"... yes?" I finally said, wondering if agreeing would make the two of them let me be.

"I like that! C'mon, you two should meet my friend, Joshua. He likes weird people."

"Okay- wait!" Just like that, Charity grabbed both me and Florence by the hands and raced off, again.

We did get a quick breather that time, since Charity stopped by the sitting room to ask her father for permission to visit her friend (which he gave quite readily- I wished _my_ parents would be so easygoing). That also gave me a chance to collect Drowzee and add him to the group, just in case. Michael glared at Florence and me, but he couldn't say anything else with Isaac there, so we still managed to get away.

It had definitely hit full nighttime outside, and it was really far too late for a bunch of kids to be wandering on their own. I wasn't worried about myself (I was a _trainer_, after all, I could deal with anything!), and Florence could look after herself, but Charity was another case entirely. I didn't get a chance to worry for long, though, since Joshua lived only a block or so down.

Charity rapped on the door and then started bouncing impatiently. I took the opportunity to scope out the house. It was practically squashed in between the two on either side and the shutters needed repairing; It wasn't as nice as Isaac's house by any means. The lady who eventually opened the door _was_ nice, though, and she looked harried and approachable in a way that my mom rarely did.

"Hello there, Charity Martin," the lady said with a smile. "Is it not a bit late for you to be out?" Her eyes darted over the three of us in the background- Florence, Drowzee, and me- but she didn't look alarmed at the sight of a Pokemon nearby. Well, it seemed feasible that constant exposure to Slowpoke made the Azaleans more comfortable around Pokemon in general.

Charity giggled, nodding. "But my father said it was alright, so I'm fine! Can I introduce my new friends to Joshua, please?"

The lady sighed, shaking her head, but she still smiled. "Yes, you may, but you should go back home then, dear. It's late, you know."

"Alright! Thank you, Mrs. Kurt!" Charity squealed, picking up her Slowpoke and darting into the house. Florence followed more sedately and even Drowzee wandered in, but I stayed rooted to the spot for a moment, shocked.

Mrs. _Kurt?_

If that was a coincidence, I'd eat my own glasses.

* * *

Back to the Future _in the Pokemon world is a lot like the version in ours, except that the Doctor is a forgetful Alakazam who can talk and Marty is followed everywhere by his comic-relief partner, Pichu, who can't use electric attacks. The lightning bolt at the end is replaced by Pichu finally mastering his Thundershock. EVERYTHING is better with Pokemon._


	14. Back to the Basics

I didn't pay much attention to Joshua when we met him, actually, since I was too busy secretly peering around and trying to figure out how such a perfectly nice and ordinary family might end up creating the first-ever poke balls someday. Only now did I regret always daydreaming through history class in school; I was pretty sure we'd covered such things back then.

Certainly Joshua couldn't end up being the first poke ball designer (in fact, I was insulted by that very idea; I had very high ideas about who such a great inventor should be). He was a sullen kid, maybe a year older than Charity, and he seemed infinitely more interested in music than Pokemon. The only time I saw him smile during the entire ten-minute visit was when Charity asked him if he could please play us all her favorite song on the family's piano. He was really good, to my surprise; certainly I wouldn't be able to make the dusty old thing sound so nice. It was just too bad that he barely said a single word. How was I supposed to get hints that way?

The five of us eventually left the house, Drowzee and Charity leading the way (with Maisy lagging behind, of course), and I was frustratedly trying to think up ways to get back to the Kurts later when Florence spoke up.

"Joshua does not usually live here, does he?"

Florence stopped mid-skip, skidding to a halt before street intersection; she whirled in a circle to look back at the three of us (her Slowpoke was slowly catching up). "In a way; how did you guess?" she asked, curious, as Drowzee continued his unusually fast-paced walk straight across the street. I scratched my neck worriedly while looking left and right for traffic, grateful for once that it would be made up of slower-paced carts instead of machines.

"Intuition," Florence replied, shrugging. She did that a lot, making decisions without proof, or so it seemed to me. I decided to watch more carefully, to see if I could catch her in a mistake. She could be awfully insufferable at times, after all.

"Well," Charity said, turning back around to half-skip her way forward again, "most of his family _does_ live out of the city. They've got the biggest apricorn farm in- anywhere! I think." I blinked at the familiar word, processing that new and valuable information. "Some of the flavors are icky and tough but I _love_ the orange ones, they're so delicious! Anyway, Joshua and some of his siblings stay here with his cousin so he can go to school, but their parents are all out of town. I've visited the orchards once or twice..."

I tuned the girl out as she continued prattling incessantly, thoughts whirling through my head. Apricorns could be used to make poke balls- they _had _been used to make poke balls, in fact, up until maybe twenty years before I was born, when the standardized artificial model was made. The Kurt from my time still used them primarily, and my dad had brought the tough fruits back home several times when experimenting with them.

All I got from all my thoughts was the notion that I _really _had to stop thinking about poke balls, so I could concentrate on getting home instead. The mechanical option was more interesting, sure, but what good it would do me when I was so far away from Dad's workbench? That brought on a totally unexpected wave of homesickness, deep and sickening and certainly responsible for how my eyes suddenly got wet; luckily, we reached Charity's house before it could really settle in.

Once we were back inside, Michael pulled Florence and me aside to tell us that we were all going to stay in Azalea for the following two days, so he could get some tasks done and talk more thoroughly with Isaac. Florence was _not_ to get into trouble or go wandering off again, and I was to keep my mouth shut and make myself useful because he still wasn't sure about what I was really doing there. Michael was a really confusing guy, honestly, though I was pretty sure that his sour mood was due to his Hoothoot's absence- she had flown back to Enrui to bring them a message, telling the villagers what we were doing.

"Does your Hoothoot have a name?" I asked him suddenly, remembering my earlier silent questions and worries. I looked around for Drowzee after thinking of that- he had curled himself up in the corner of the room, asleep, of course.

Michael blinked at me in a wide-eyed way that was quite reminiscent of his partner; then he actually smiled. "Yes, but that's our business, not yours," he answered before steering the conversation back into the list of Don'ts he'd made for us kids. I noticed that he seemed more comfortable with me after that had been brought up, though.

I really needed to figure out whether Drowzee needed a name.

We ate and made sleeping arrangements, things ordinary people did. I wasn't too surprised to hear that it was common for Pokemon to sleep with their partners in Azalea, sharing rooms and, occasionally, even beds. The people did seem to have a close bond to the creatures, something a bit more special than what I'd usually seen in Goldenrod. In my time, Pokemon were friends at best, and more commonly pets or, in the bad cases, tools. Here they were truly partners, considered equal as much as they were occasionally feared. It made me wonder where things had gone downhill.

That night, I slept on the dining room floor in a pile of blankets, back-to-back with Drowzee. It seemed comfortable, right; camping out while traveling would be a million times more bearable if it would seem the same. Sure, my back ached and my head felt strangely empty when I got up the following morning, but I felt better for the night all the same.

I found myself with nothing in particular to do and no threats hanging over my head that next morning, with Isaac and Michael locked in Isaac's 'lab', Charity off at her school, and Florence stubbornly insisting that if I didn't think up something to do she could just ask me plenty of questions about the future, and what would be wrong with that? I didn't want to dance around considerations of what could cause a paradox and the like, though, so I decided to settle on doing the one basic thing I hadn't done since becoming a trainer- train!

What? It was better than sitting around and wondering what to do, which was my only other option until I could get back in Ilex Forest. It would give me a head start, in a way.

Drowzee agreed to the plan as soon as I informed him about it- he waggled his trunk up and down pretty vigorously, actually. I was willing to bet that he was sick of being weaker than most of the other partner Pokemon in the area (even Maisy had shot him down with a water gun when he sniffed too close to her the night before). So the two of us left Michael a note and traveled off to find a clearing outside of the city to practice in. Florence decided to follow, voicing her own judgmental comments along the way; I did my best to ignore them. Drowzee and I were going to train, and we were going to do a proper job of it!

What followed was nothing like what I'd seen trainers do before, nothing like the typical rehearsing of strategies and combinations over and over, often against other members of the team. Apparently that only worked when the human knew what they were doing. Since I definitely had no clue about what was going on, I decreed that we would work through Drowzee's moveset, improving each of his attacks to the best extent that we could.

"Let's start with pound." Drowzee stared at me, no emotion in his eyes, as I flailed my hands around wildly and tried to explain my thoughts. "I mean, what I've seen you do before is good, y'know? It's just- well, you seem to lack a little, um, force."

Drowzee narrowed his eyes at that.

"Hey, don't glare. Here- we'll practice together!" I could hear Florence snickering in the background, but I ignored her as I located a sturdy-looking rock off by the trees and made a beeline for it. Drowzee followed me slowly, skepticism written all over his snout. "We'll both work on our pounds on this! C'mon, like-" I made a fist and dashed it against the rock to demonstrate, not thinking the action through.

Two seconds later I was hopping in a circle while clutching my fist, breathing quickly to try to keep the sobs back (I was _not_ going to cry in front of a girl, that was _not _going to happen) and hoping that I hadn't broken anything. Okay, so maybe it would help if I actually knew how to throw a punch. But I was smart- I could figure it out.

Drowzee had taken initiative by the time I'd recovered, and he was pounding his way away at the rock with something that almost looked like a grin on his face. I decided to stick to observing, offering encouragement, occasionally tapping at the rock with my knuckles in a nervous, hesitant way, to make it look like I was making an effort.

I didn't see when Florence left, but I did hear when she returned. Or, rather, I heard the person she'd brought with her.

"Dear me, I see what you mean," a silky voice said from behind me. I turned to find myself face-to-face with a stooped old gentleman, silvery hair and all, who had a Venomoth that was graying with age hovering next to him. "These two certainly are new to battling."

"I grew tired of watching you mess up," Florence informed me brusquely, her chin up in the air, "so I went and found this Trainer to help. He was practicing nearby." She looked far too pleased with herself, insufferable as always.

I eyed the man and his Pokemon warily, wondering if he'd bring the term 'battle' up. He didn't, luckily; he just got straight into drilling me on how training was _supposed _to work.

Ten minutes later, I found myself wishing he'd just defeated me and left it at that.


	15. A Mistake

"First, before you even consider any attacks, you both must improve your base skills."

I rubbed my knuckles again, squinting at the old man. "Huh?" Not the most encouraging of responses, perhaps, but it was all I could come up with. Drowzee looked just as clueless as I felt, and Florence had gone off to sit at the side without piping up, so at least it seemed that I wasn't alone in my confusion.

The man sighed, briefly touching a hand to his forehead, then made a strange gesture at his Venomoth. The bug started flying in circles above his head, gaining height slowly as he went around. "Your base skills, the strengths and weaknesses that come together to compose _you_ as a fighting individual. For example: stamina." And then he abruptly started jogging in place at a pace much more rapid than what I ever ran at, his expression not changing at all. When he spoke again, his voice was only slightly breathy. "You both must build up your stamina so you do not simply collapse when pushed too far. Power and speed will give you nothing if you cannot keep standing through a fight."

I blinked twice, almost mesmerized by the rhythmic intensity of his words. He sounded like a motivational speaker, someone on the television who you'd look up to, not a random old guy that Florence had found in a field nearby. "Who are you, again?"

He glared fiercely in our direction. "You will never build up your strength by just _standing _there, though."

Drowzee snorted at me, then started doing his own little jog-in-place thing. I sighed and decided to comply, reluctantly setting my arms and legs moving.

"To answer your question, my surname is Smith. As for the question you're about to ask-" I closed my mouth guiltily and concentrated on keeping my feet moving in a reasonable pattern- "I have gone through this process many, many times before with people almost as young as you, people who ended up changing their minds about traveling the world. We cannot afford to let every child with a Slowpoke rum amok in the wild. Keep your arms in."

Thus lectured and chastised, I decided to keep my head down and focus on my pace. Of course, his challenging statement ended up making Florence decide that she had to prepare herself too, so she got up and joined us all in our exercise.

I was ready to stop after five minutes, but Smith didn't give us a break until long after that. He did have us alternate through different paces, though we never got up to anything _fast_, exactly. Florence was easily in better shape than either Drowzee or me- _that_ was embarrassing, and something I was determined to fix. Someday. Trainers ended up being physically fit somehow, right?

We then moved to working on defense, since Smith said that pure power never got anyone anywhere. That was slightly more exciting, since the things he had us doing were slightly closer to abilities I actually wanted to have, so I paid more attention to his words and the things he had us do.

"You will eventually need to strengthen your physical defenses, as an attack will occasionally be able to hit no matter what precautions you take, but avoiding a direct hit is the better defense in almost any case," the man lectured, his Venomoth hovering in the air behind him. "Increasing your speed will help in this case, but we shall concentrate first on the senses, your ability to react. Sight, sound, the texture of the surrounding air- even scent will help in certain situations." He paused, then, turning to face Drowzee directly (I shifted uneasily, since my starter was mumbling his name incoherently under his breath, probably not a good sign). "You two have not formed a mental bond yet?"

"Huh? N-no," I muttered, looking down and wondering why we hadn't, anyway. What if I was doing something wrong? How would I know if I was? I needed a manual for the whole training business. Maybe I'd be able to get one once I got back home- I conveniently shoved the notion that what I was currently doing wasn't going to help much in that department and tried to concentrate on Smith again.

"Yes, it shows," he muttered wryly, still peering down at my Pokemon. "I cannot help you there, as I am not bonded to a psychic. You must learn how to form a link, however; others, both in teams and alone in the wild, will expect it and attack as such. Preparation is key."

I glared mildly at the man, wishing he had come up with another magical solution instead. He had other solutions, though, in the form of dozens of tiny exercises. Florence and I were quickly pushed back to learning how to dodge and how to take a fall- my hands started to smart after I had slammed them into the grass below a few times- but Drowzee, who seemed to react innately, was put through exercises where he had to sense the Venomoth approaching using only his eyes or ears or, occasionally, his mind.

I would've watched more closely if I wasn't being introduced to the ground so often.

Eventually Smith decreed that we were done for the day and left without a single other word. I took the opportunity to fall over and wheeze on the dirt while Florence, breathing heavily, stared after the man.

"Do you believe he is honestly leaving?" she asked, frowning probably. I couldn't quite see her face from the position I was in.

"Dunno," I mumbled, taking my glasses off so I could wipe them on my shirt. "Does it matter?"

"Well, yes- we must keep growing stronger! Trainer Michael said that we were staying for another day, did he not? It is the perfect opportunity for me to gain these skills and for you to become useful."

Drowzee brayed tiredly as he waddled over to me, probably voicing his own opinion, while I sat up and glared. Way too many people had called me useless ever since the whole time-traveling incident; it was starting to get on my nerves. "S'not the point, Flo. How is this going to help me, really?"

She raised her eyebrows, not speaking, so I waved my arms around to emphasize the thoughts which were swirling around in my head, forming a point. Honestly, we'd danced around the situation in so many conversations already, and I really just wanted a yes or no answer. "It's like... I dunno, I thought this morning that training might help us get more ideas, but it hasn't! I should be doing this stuff in my _own_ time. Right, Drowzee?" I got a snort for that as he sat down on my right, which I decided was his way of agreeing. "Right. So, honestly, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop dragging me around into crazy events so we can figure this stuff out."

Florence stared blankly in my direction for such a long time that I started to feel awkward, but then she sighed and settled down, sitting to my left. "I've been thinking about your situation," she admitted, resting her chin on her knees, "but I cannot find a way out of it."

"Can't you just find that fairy-thing-"

"_Celebi_. And no, it doesn't work like that. Besides, what makes you think she'd take you back?"

I did my best to push away that unhappy thought, concentrating on the positive parts. "No reason for her not to."

"But she told you that you had to help her, correct?" I nodded slowly, unwilling to acknowledge the point. "Well then, we must first find out what that means."

"But you'll help?" I asked quietly, looking down. Florence was probably a year or two older than me, after all, and infinitely more familiar with the past. She already knew about my real situation. Besides, I really needed someone to talk to honestly, someone who could talk back in words that didn't end with 'zee'.

"Yes," she replied firmly, patting my shoulder in an awkward way. "You're helping me find _my_ partner in return, though."

I nodded in agreement- fair was fair.

Unfortunately, Florence's concept of helping turned out to include dragging us all out into the fields again the next day. And by all, I mean _all_- Michael and Isaac were there, too. Florence had told Michael about the older trainer who knew so much, and he'd been fascinated enough at the idea of a person who trained Trainers to come along. Isaac, it seemed, was just joining in for fun.

We worked on stamina (at Florence's insistence) for ten minutes or so, and I got into it enough to not notice when Smith arrived. He did show up, though, and he cackled a bit at seeing all of us at work (Michael and Hoothoot had joined in too, though at a lazier pace).

"I must admit, I did not expect to see you return," Smith told me, smiling widely. "Most children like you turn and crawl away at the first opportunity."

That was pretty insulting, but I swallowed my (practically non-existent) pride and just watched as the adults introduced themselves. Smith already knew Isaac from the town, but he spent a minute or two learning about Michael's past experiences before he turned back to us kids.

"Well, Trainer Monroe, given the addition of Trainer Michael's Hoothoot, I believe that it will be beneficial to work on free-form battling today."

I blinked, taking a step backwards. _That_ didn't sound fun.

Michael shrugged his agreement, though he added in a provision that he was reserving the right to call Hoothoot out of the fray at any point in time; then, before I could speak up, the bird and bug were shooting through the air, both angling down at me and Drowzee.

I yelped and jumped out of the way, remembering to break my fall with my hands just in time. The two flying Pokemon were focusing mostly on Drowzee, though, who looked like he was severely out of his league, running in zig-zags as he was. I made myself as small a target as I could as I crept backwards, trying to think up a possible counter-attack. I couldn't listen to what the other two trainers were saying, could only watch the fight ahead- maybe that was why Smith had mentioned multi-tasking at some point in time?

Pound wouldn't work; both opponents were flying too fast, he'd never be able to hit them.

Disable could only take down one of them; we'd practiced it the previous afternoon on the one or two wild Pokemon who ventured near our training, and we'd figured out that Drowzee could only block one move at a time, no matter how many Pokemon there were in range.

"Hypnosis!" I order loudly, rolling out of the way as a whirlwind of dirt shot out towards me. I could see Drowzee's eyes turn blue as he tried to focus on the bug and the bird, but he couldn't get either of them in range for long enough; the blue waves of sleep-inducing thoughts moved too slowly.

And then Drowzee was pinned in place by the Hoothoot's talons, and strange, semi-transparent balls of green light were flying from his body to the Venomoth. My starter was looking weaker by the second and I was scared, honestly scared, because it looked like he was getting _hurt _by that attack. How was I supposed to help him if he fainted?

"Confusion!" I screamed, scrambling to my feet. It wouldn't do any good, I knew- we'd tried and tried the afternoon before to no success, and Drowzee was looking weaker by the second. I forgot where I was, _when _I was, as the situation narrowed down to the fact that my partner was being badly hurt and there wasn't anything I could do about it, except-

Relieved at the sudden thought, I dug into my jacket's pocket and tore the poke ball out, pointing it towards the mess of Pokemon and squeezing the metallic line around the middle. "_Return!"_

A jet of red light shot out and enveloped Drowzee, who willingly disappeared, sucked back into the ball. I sagged in relief, holding the poke ball tightly in both hands as I took a moment to _breathe_.

That was about when I realized exactly what I had just done. I froze up, suddenly aware of the fact that four people were probably staring at me in pure disbelief.

It seemed like I had some explaining to do.

* * *

_PS: If you're reading this and wondering what the heck happened to my updating, worry not! I've got big plans for the future of this saga that include regular updates and a better-developed plot. Just gimme a bit of time to get my resources together. =D And thanks, as always, for reading! ~Snow, 07/27/10_


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